


Made of Stars

by luxuriasdance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Curtis is here unfortunately, Fix-It, Infidelity, M/M, Mental Health Issues, but briefly - Freeform, dismissing of mental illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxuriasdance/pseuds/luxuriasdance
Summary: Shiro is happy. He is.He is alive. He is married. He has a great house with avocado-green walls and the quiet life he never thought he would get.The only dark spot in his otherwisehappylife is the constant nightmare that plagues his dreams. And the fact that he hasn't had a real conversation with his best friend in over five years.But everything else is fine. Everything is fine until something (or someone) plucks Shiro from his happy, quiet life and shows him a different universe and the life he could have had if only he'd made different choices.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

_Everything around him is purple. His lungs are burning. There is no air. His ears feel like bleeding from the deafening pressure of the soundless vacuum. He cannot move. He knows this dream._

_A tall man is standing in front of him, face covered in shadows. But Shiro doesn’t need to see his face. He knows who it is._

_Another, smaller figure lays on the ground in front of the shadow man, begging. Shiro can’t hear the words - there is only ever silence in this void - but he doesn’t need to. He knows the words by heart, the shadow man’s memories forever stuck in Shiro’s brain._

_The other him -_ the evil him _\- presses onward, trapping Keith underneath a glowing sword extended from his Galra arm._

_Shiro desperately wants to look away. He always does, but his eyes are always glued to the scene in front of him, as if Haggar is controlling him again, twisting his neck and keeping his eyes open. He knows Keith can’t see him - Shiro was never really here, after all - yet it always tastes too much like betrayal and ash on his tongue to just stand here and watch... just a witness -always helpless, always trapped in someone else’s memory as his worst nightmares unfurl in front of his eyes._

_Keith’s mouth opens in a silent scream. Shiro screams too, his raspy voice echoing lonely in his own brain – his voice getting lost somewhere between his throat and the vastness of space._

_He knows there is no point. Keith can’t hear his cry because Shiro isn’t really here. It’s just a dream._ This isn’t real.

_The rational part of his brain, the one that knows he is sleeping and Keith is safe on some far-off planet, never seems to manage to win over the screeching terror of watching himself try to kill his best friend for a ninth night in a roll._

_“Keith,” Shiro shouts silently._

_Keith’s face is scrunched up in pain. His lips are spilling soundless words, which never fail to break Shiro's heart in a million pieces._ You are my brother. I love you. 

_The pain of watching the memory unfold hasn’t dulled with repetition. It always hurts as if Shiro is seeing it for the first time. It always hurts like he is really here._

_The smell of burning flesh fills his nose. He knows it’s just his imagination._ This isn’t real. _It doesn't help._

_“Keith,” Shiro sobs in agony. No one hears him._

_Keith shouts as he summons the last dredges of his strength. The black bayard transforms into a sword and then there are only cables and crumbled metal where the clone's arm used to be._

_Shiro is shaking. It’s almost over now. He knows it. He will wake up in his bed soon._

_The pressure in his ears starts easing off and the fire in his chest seems to die down if only by a fraction. The stars around him start to dull, fading into blackness like they always do..._

_“Shiro.”_

_Shiro’s eyes widen. Keith is looking straight at him. As if he can see Shiro._

_This has never happened before._ This isn’t part of the clone’s memory!

_“Why did you let me go, Shiro?” Keith’s voice is quiet and small, every bit the hurt and lonely boy that Shiro met when he was twenty-two. “I never gave up on you,” he whispers._

__No _, Shiro wants to shout,_ I never let you go. It was you. You left me. _But even here, in a dream of a memory, surrounded by the cold and unforgiving void of space, far away from Earth, Shiro knows he would be lying if he threw all of the blame at Keith’s feet._

 _“_ I am sorry, _" he tries instead and, miraculously, this time his words manage to get past his lips and he can hear his voice crack._ In space! _Just another proof that this is not real._

_Keith doesn’t seem to hear him, however. Or maybe he simply ignores him. Maybe it is too late for apologies now._

_“You never talked to me, Shiro. We were meant to talk.” Keith’s whisper echoes around Shiro’s mind almost painfully._ I wanted to _, Shiro wants to say even though he is not sure what Keith means but, once again, his voice has disappeared. He is so far away. "I thought you were my brother, Shiro. What did I do?"_ Nothing. You were right. We were, Keith, we were brothers. We still are. _Shiro gasps for breath. This isn't real. Keith is not really here; he is not looking at him with pain-filled eyes._

_Which is somehow worse, knowing how their story ends (polite smiles and silence where their friendship once stood), knowing that in reality, they wouldn't even be exchanging painful truths._

_“We are made of stars,” Keith says and Shiro doesn’t know where it is coming from but knows it to be half-true. “What is chaining you to the ground?”_

_A single tear tracks down from Keith’s left eye and then he’s falling._

__No!

_Shiro rushes after him and feels the familiar pull of gravity._

_The station is falling all around them and Keith is shining like a supernova, framed by the stars he is made of. Shiro never could catch up to him but he has to now. **He has to!** Shiro just needs to grab him, just to touch..._

“Takashi, wake up,” a voice that is decidedly not Keith’s calls for him worriedly. Keith had never called him Takashi. Not once.

Shiro breathes out shakily and turns towards the warm body behind him. 

The sky outside the bedroom window has begun to lighten up and Shiro can just about make out his husband’s tired-looking face. This, much like his nightmare, is familiar. He doesn’t want to deal with it right now.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out. There is smoke in his lungs from a fire that was not real. “Did I wake you up?” 

“Did you...” Curtis cuts himself off. “Of course, you woke me up. You were screaming, Takashi." Then more quietly, "Was it the same dream again?”

Shiro doesn’t want to talk about it. He wants to curl up in a ball and sleep for two days. He wants to call Keith and hear him breathing and alive. 

“Yes... No.” He knows he is not making any sense, so he tries again. “It was different. I... He talked to me this time,” he says and tries to keep his voice even. He knows Curtis is doing his best to help.

“He talked to you?” Curtis’ voice is passive but Shiro knows what he is thinking, and he doesn't want to hear it. Curtis and him didn’t know each other in the Garrison and by the time they’d met, Keith and Shiro were almost strangers - it is hard for Curtis to understand Shiro and Keith's relationship, how close they were before Keith’s face was scarred. “And what did he say?”

_That we are made of stars. That I don’t talk to him._

“He was hurt,” Shiro says instead. 

Curtis either doesn’t notice Shiro's aversion or doesn’t care. He rubs a hand over his forehead tiredly and it reminds Shiro of Adam so much that he feels a memory of pain in his chest.

“I am tired. I have a class in the morning.” Curtis gets up and grabs his pillow. “I’ll take the guest room tonight. I hope you manage to get some sleep.” 

Shiro nods. He doesn't try to stop him - Curtis needs his sleep.

The relief of the silence that follows the quiet click of the door is overwhelming. He loves his husband, he really does but if he has to hear that “this was Keith’s fault too, not just Shiro’s; that drifting far away from childhood friends is normal; that it’s not a big deal because they never really fought and there was no reason to think they are no longer friends…” again, he might put a fist through their god-awful avocado-green wall. Shiro knows it took two people to go from brothers to strangers, he does, but on nights like this - when he dreams of hurting Keith - he just wants his best friend back.

He hopes Curtis gets enough sleep, so he doesn't feel tired in class - he gets cranky when he hasn't had his full eight hours. Maybe Shiro will get him flowers or take him to that Italian restaurant he likes. Maybe they’ll even have sex – it’s been a while.

This must be hard on Curtis too. Shiro has stolen too much of Curtis’ sleep and even more of his patience over the three years they've been together. A husband is not a therapist - they’ve had this talk several times already - and doesn’t have to talk him through his traumatic memories or his guilt for pushing his best friend away. 

Shiro knows there is no point to try and sleep again now. The sun will be rising soon, and he wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep even if the sky was pitch black and full of stars. _We are made of stars._

He shakes his head and grabs his tablet from the bedside table. He fires a quick message to Matt, asking if he wants to grab lunch.

It is not even that surprising when his tablet lights up with a response mere seconds later. Matt never did have a healthy sleeping pattern. 

_I’d love to, man. I’ll come and pick you up around 12?_ The message reads.

Shiro smiles. The one good thing that came with retirement is that he is always free to hang out with Matt and the paladins (the ones who still come back to Earth frequently, at least) whenever they are home for a few weeks at a time. He is not chained – he is free.

 _We are made of stars_ , Keith's whisper echoes in his mind like a chant.

 _No_ , Shiro tells him (and great, now he is talking to himself). _You are. I was only ever flesh and blood... and metal._

He gets up as quietly as he can - careful not to wake Curtis up again - and starts his daily workout routine. 

At some point (around his 450 sit up) he hears Curtis getting ready for work in the spare bedroom, then (while Shiro is doing pull-ups) prepare his coffee and breakfast in the kitchen and, finally, the screech and purposeful slam of their front door announcing a very cranky Curtis leaving their flat. So, today probably won’t be the end of their four-month dry spell then.

Shiro gets up and makes breakfast for himself (he is trying to give up coffee to stay healthy), then watches a documentary show about the rapid decrease in penguin population and, by the time he has showered and dressed and watched another documentary about the mating habits of ostriches, Matt is knocking at his front door. 

Shiro opens the door, grinning happily only to find not one but two Holt siblings standing in front of him. 

"Pidge," he exclaims in surprise as she jumps up and envelops him in skinny arms. "What are you doing on Earth? I wasn't expecting you for another two months, at least. Not that I'm complaining," he adds with a smile.

"Oh, the Garrison has asked me to come and help with the upgrades of the Class 3 Space Cat Fighter Jets. I know, what a horrible name," she makes a disgusted face and rolls her eyes dramatically. "They are having some trouble with the cloaking device, which Matt's smooth brain can't deal with, so they need my superior intellect to crack this one," she grins cheekily and sticks out her tongue at Matt.

Shiro doesn’t question it. He is just glad to see her ahead of their annual gathering on New Altea. 

He doesn’t stop smiling as they walk out of his building and drive to one of the human-alien restaurants that have sprung up all around the rebuilt town ever since Voltron defeated Sendak all those years ago. Pidge and Matt go on and on about their work - most of the stuff is too complex for Shiro to understand and he doesn’t even pretend to get it - as they tear through their T’halma burgers (tastes a bit like rabbit) and Chahnthntri chips (they taste completely alien). 

Shiro wishes the others were here with them but this is good too. He gets that everyone is busy now and Hunk and Lance won’t just up and leave what they are doing to come and have alien food on Earth because Shiro is feeling lonely. He doesn’t think about Keith. 

“So, Keith just rolled his eyes at me and said he’ll think about it.” Shiro’s attention snaps back to the conversation like a rubber band that’s been extended too far. “Can you believe the nerve?!” Pidge says in mock-rage.

“Cut him some slack,” Matt smirks at his sister,“ he did just discover hot alien sex like a year ago. I remember the first time I realised that there are attractive alien girls out there,” he smiles dreamily.

“First of all, ew. Second of all, he didn’t just discover it – it’s been nearly a year. Plus, he is an alien so all the sex he has is alien sex.” Pidge taps her forefinger to her temple with a smug smile.

Shiro tries to strangle the curiosity that rears its head in his chest every time one of the others mentions Keith’s partner. He knows about K’harlos (or however he was called), of course, but he has never met him personally as the last time the paladins gathered for the anniversary of Allura’s death, Keith had only just met the Galra. And it’s not like Keith and he ever talk outside of these annual meetings. Not beyond small talk anyway.

He wants to ask Matt and Pidge what they make of Keith’s partner, but he has managed to swallow questions about Keith for nearly 5 years. He is not about to sink that boat now. 

Matt curves an eyebrow at Shiro – he is the only one who knows about Shiro and Keith’s estranged friendship – and Pidge looks slightly alarmed at his face, which tells Shiro he has completely failed his quiet and neutral expression.

“Shiro, don’t tell me you thought they were just cuddling,” Pidge says teasingly but Shiro can hear the suspicion in her voice. She knows Keith and he are not as close as before but Shiro doesn’t think even she suspects that they haven’t had a proper conversation since long before Allura’s death. Matt doesn’t seem too inclined to maybe change the topic or help Shiro out in some other way right now.

“I... well... you know Keith,” Shiro says evasively and hopes it’s good enough. Keith had never seemed interested in sex, human or alien, when they were still friends, so he doesn’t really feel equipped to have this conversation.

“You are right, I guess,” she says carefully. “I never really thought I’d see the day he gets laid when we were on the castle sometimes but the way K’hart” - _Bingo! The alien’s name is K’hart!_ \- “looks at him... it’s rather obvious really.” Her voice goes ever so quiet towards the end, as if she doesn’t really want to talk about this with him. 

“Mhm…” Shiro murmurs noncommittally hoping it’s enough. He really doesn’t know how this K’hart supposedly looks at Keith.

Matt nods slowly and Shiro just knows he is just continuing this topic just to screw with him and see how long Shiro can pretend that 95% of what he knows about K’hart is not based on the current conversation.

Grinning meaningfully at Shiro, Matt says, “I mean, I don’t blame K’hart. Keith is a sight for sore eyes, and they are mates after all,” he scrunches up his face at that. “I still find it weird to say “mate” after all this time.”

Shiro is trying to play it cool and keep the hurt away from his face but it’s difficult. Keith has a mate (whatever that is) who Shiro’s never met. This K’hart is clearly important enough for everyone else to have met him. It shouldn’t hurt – they are not really friends anymore – but it does.

He pushes it aside. If he mentions anything, Pidge would want to know what happened – why they are no longer as attached at the hip as before they came back to Earth – and Shiro can’t really give her an answer. He wishes he had one for himself at least, but the sad reality is that he doesn’t even know what drove them apart.

Maybe it was like Curtis said – people drifted apart once they no longer had a common interest or a goal to aim for. Maybe it had been the clone and that fight – when Keith had had to save him yet again, almost at the cost of his own life. Maybe that had been one time too many. _As many times as it takes_ , Keith had said but that had been to the clone, not to Shiro.

Shiro pushes that line of thought aside, like usual, preferring to focus on his other friends.

“And have you seen Lance recently?” he asks as casually as he can, hoping Pidge’s sharp mind will not catch on the sudden change in topic.

If she does, she doesn’t let on and launches into a story about her latest visit to Lance’s farm in New Altea; how he is finally looking better; and that even Coran had left the castle to spend one evening with them. Shiro listens carefully this time, hums thoughtfully and laughs at the few funny parts of the tale.

By the time Matt and Pidge walk him back to his building, he has almost forgotten the nightmare that has been plaguing him for more than a week. He doesn’t really want to go home yet and he has tried to convince Matt and Pidge to stay for dinner but they both have to go back to the Garrison. He wonders whether they would let him walk in the Garrison with his friends despite not having clearance anymore.

“How long are you on Earth for?” he asks Pidge as she is hugging him goodbye.

“Four months at least.” She sounds annoyed at this and Shiro can symphatise. It is hard to stay in one place once you’re used to travelling in space. _We are made of stars._ He shakes the thought away. “I’m hoping the others might visit while I’m here. We can head to New Altea together in Keith’s brand-new Commander ship.”

Matt nods eagerly. He has already told Shiro all about the ship, which is supposedly almost as fast as the Red Lion and which Matt cannot wait to get his hands on if Keith ever agrees to let him tinker with. Maybe Shiro will see this infamous ship if Keith shows up with it at their next annual meeting. Maybe he will even meet the infamous K’hart.

Shiro reluctantly bids Matt and Pidge goodbye with the promise to meet up again next week.

Curtis is in the kitchen making dinner. Damn it, Shiro forgot all about those flowers he was going to buy.

Shiro gives Curtis a quick peck on the cheek and starts helping with the salad – the only thing he is (reluctantly) allowed to make given his tragic track record in the kitchen.

“How was your day?” Shiro asks while trying not to chop off the tips of his fingers again. Hunk always makes fun of him for being able to handle any type of weapon or spaceship in combat but lacking the simple capability of holding a kitchen knife correctly.

“It was good,” Curtis replies. “The cadet I told you about seems to have learnt his lesson and is actually behaving.”

Shiro has absolutely no idea what Curtis is talking about, but he is not about to give himself away – he knows Curtis hates it when he doesn’t remember details from his stories. Shiro hums hoping it’s enough of a response.

“What about your day?”

“It was good,” Shiro says honestly. “I saw Matt and Pidge – she is back on Earth for a bit.”

“Oh yes, I think I saw her the other day,” Curtis responds. Irritation flares in Shiro’s chest for a second – Curtis had known one of his best friends is back on Earth and hadn’t told him – but he pushes it back down as it’s not such a big deal. He doesn’t really want to argue.

They don’t speak much as they eat the meal Curtis prepared (as well the salad Shiro made).

It’s only when they wash up and start getting ready for bed that Curtis speaks up, “I think it would be better if I stayed in the guest room for a few nights. You have been restless recently and I haven’t been able to get much sleep – it’s hard to focus at work if I’m barely managing to stay awake.” Curtis’ voice is not berating or irritated and this somehow makes Shiro feel even worse.

He is hoping to avoid conversations about his nightmares altogether, so he simply nods and heads towards his bedroom… _their_ bedroom even if Curtis is not sleeping there at the moment.

He feels more exhausted than usual – maybe because he spent the whole day wandering around with Matt and Pidge, which is more than watching documentaries, which he does on a usual day.

The thought of the Holt siblings brings a smile to his face. He is happy they are both on Earth at the same time. With some luck, Pidge will be able to convince the others to come back for a bit as well and they could all spend some time together for more than the usual three days they stay on New Altea. Maybe Keith and Shiro can talk and clear things up – figure out how to be friends again.

Shiro drifts off thinking things are finally looking up.

_It’s all purple again and Shiro is getting sick of this. How many times does he have to live through this experience that he wasn’t even present for?_

_Much like the night before (and the eight nights before that, and the countless other nights he has had this quiznaking nightmare), no air is entering his lungs and he is surrounded by an oppressive silence that can only be found in the void of space._

_Everything is the same as Shiro knows it – Keith on the ground, the clone above him; the searing pain that cuts through his chest as he watches them fight; the scratching of his throat as he tries to scream and fails; the dryness in his eyes as Keith calls him his brother; the relief when the clone’s arm is finally severed from his body; the longing to reach out and touch Keith to make sure he is alright._

_And then…_

_“Shiro.” Shiro doesn’t startle like the night before – he almost expected it this time, almost hoped…_

_“Keith. I’m here, Keith,” he says desperately. He knows this is a dream, but what if Keith can really hear him somehow – stranger things have happened to them after all._

_“No. You are not,” Keith whispers. His smile is heartbreakingly sad. “You are not here anymore.”_

_“I am, Keith. We are still friends,” Shiro pleads. He tries to move again and fails_ again.

_“We are made of stars, Shiro. Tell me, what is chaining you to the ground?” Shiro opens his mouth to respond with… something…_

… and he is suddenly staring at the ceiling of his bedroom and breathing heavily. He huffs in annoyance. He is both disappointed and relieved that he didn’t need to answer that question. What is chaining him?

He is married. He has a four-bedroom house with… elegant avocado-green walls and he has enough time to spend with his friends and his husband. He is _alive_ \- he never expected to live this long and to get the chance to enjoy this quiet life. He should be grateful. He is grateful. _He is happy!_ He is not chained. He is just living his life – quiet as it is.

 _Not all of us were made to change the universe, Keith_ , Shiro thinks with slight bitterness. _Not all of us are made of stars_.

His throat is tight, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep again tonight. He needs a drink.

He gets up and dresses, trying his best to be quiet – the last thing he wants is for Curtis to wake up and give him grief about his classes in the morning.

The first glass of whiskey burns like fire down his throat. It’s strong and he almost coughs it back up, but it does the job of settling his nerves, if only a little. He pours himself another one and drinks it almost as quickly as the first.

He runs a hand through his hair. He needs a walk. Or maybe a ride in the desert. He hasn’t taken out his hoverbike for a spin in almost a year. He just had two glasses of whiskey and it’s probably not his smartest idea to go out for a ride but it’s a quiet night outside and there is almost no traffic on the streets – it’s less than a five-minute drive to the desert.

He grabs his jacket (and the bottle of whiskey) and sneaks out feeling like he is fifteen and living with his grandpa again; climbing out of windows to go make out with his first ever boyfriend. Shiro doesn’t even remember the guy’s name now – Jackson or James… something with a J definitely.

The cool desert air clears Shiro’s head from the whiskey, and he speeds up familiar dunes, chasing his own shadow in the moonlight.

Riding the hoverbike is as invigorating as ever and he wishes he’d done this sooner. He will make sure to take it out more often in the future. Curtis doesn’t particularly like hoverbikes or the desert but maybe Shiro can convince Matt to join him next time.

He drives around aimlessly for a little while just enjoying the feel of the wind in his face and the roar of the bike between his legs. It’s a cloudless night and this far out there is next to no light pollution – he can see the Milky Way clearly and it’s as breath-taking as ever. He wonders if he can see the star that Keith’s planet or ship is orbiting right now (wherever that is) but he doubts it – if Keith was that close, he’d have popped back to Earth to see the Holts if nothing else.

Shiro slows down when he sees a familiar cliff. He kills the engine and walks to the edge and looks over it, feeling a familiar shadow next to him, but when he turns around (like always) there is no one there.

He ends up sitting down – his feet dangling off the edge – and staring into the horizon. He takes out his bottle of whiskey and takes a large sip. The warmth of the alcohol seeps through his body, chasing away the cold of the desert night. This is the most peaceful he’s felt in months.

He takes another swig and lays down onto the sand. The stars are blinking at him, bright and tantalising, as if calling to him. He feels a familiar pull. _What is chaining you to the ground?_

He could probably break in the Garrison right now. In fact, he wouldn’t even need to sneak in – they’d probably let him just walk straight in. There should be at least two or three different ships, including Pidge’s, capable of deep space travel just waiting for him. He could steal one – hell, they probably wouldn’t even reprimand him given who he is. He could be on his way to New Altea or Arus or anywhere else in the universe in just a few hours.

He brings the bottle to his lips. Of course, it would take him months or maybe even a year to reach any inhabited planets without a teludav as none of the existing ships are able to travel even half as fast as the Castle of Lions… or the Atlas, which is powered by the remains of the Castle of Lions so, same thing really.

He sighs and takes another sip. The sand crunches under his back. The bottle is half empty now. He will probably regret it tomorrow – humans, unfortunately, don’t have the fast metabolism of the Galra or the Alteans. Keith and Allura could probably drink even the most practiced human under the table without even trying.

Or… that’s what Shiro thinks, at least. Those two always handled Nunvill better than the rest of them but Shiro doesn’t think Allura ever got to taste human alcohol and see if it affected her. Shiro’s eyes burn a little now and there is a heaviness in his chest like he might be sick. Must be the drinking.

Another swig of whiskey… It tastes a like salt. Shiro tries not to think of Allura. He always tries not to think of her.

He rubs a hand over his face and takes another sip. Two of the stars above him look a little bit like Allura’s earrings – not in colour, but the shape… Or maybe his eyes are unfocused because of the alcohol.

He wonders for the hundredth time if she could still be out there somewhere… in some shape or form. He knows that she is dead, _he knows it!_ He’s gone through all the stages of grief and has had to deal with Lance crying late into the night after their annual dinner, and the empty look in Coran’s eyes when he smilingly refuses to leave the castle where Allura’s statue is raised, enough times to accept the truth.

But he also knows the law of conservation of energy, drilled into him along with all the other fundamental rules that make up their universe. Humans have learned so much but there is even more that they still don’t know. Hell, Shiro should be dead a hundred times over, _had been dead_ for all intents and purposes, yet here he is – living his best life, free from war, free from pain, free from adventure, free, free, free – not chained to anything!

It could be that Allura’s energy – her soul – is still out there transformed into something else – cosmic dust or a star or something completely unfamiliar – and, as silly as that thought is, it eases of the pressure on his lungs.

“Allura,” he whispers quietly yet his voice somehow echoes in the silent desert. “Can you hear me?” He sounds like a child talking to his imaginary friend, but he doesn’t care. “I miss you. We all do.” It feels good to say it out loud even after all these years.

He wishes she was here. The world would be so much better with her in it; Lance wouldn’t cry every time he’s had too much to drink; Coran wouldn’t spend all his time on New Altea mourning and giving them false re-assurances; Keith would be next to Shiro and not god knows where with K’harl or K’hayle or whatever his name is; and Shiro would know what to do with himself. Allura would know what to tell him – she always did. She was magic, after all. Made of stars, like Keith.

“What is chaining me to the ground, Allura?” he asks stupidly. “Can you… unchain me somehow?” Predictably, she doesn’t answer. But it doesn’t matter.

Shiro feels warm and content; the ground is no longer hard and uncomfortable and his eyes feel heavy with sleep. He is not sure how a night in the desert can feel so pleasant, but he is not about to complain. Must be the whiskey.

There is a soft smile on his lips when he closes his eyes and drifts off.

For the first time in what feels like ages, no nightmares are plaguing him – in fact, he dreams of nothing at all, but he thinks he hears a soft voice telling him that he will be free and that his chains are breaking. He thinks it might be Allura.

When he comes to, he finally feels rested. His bed seems warmer and more comfortable than usual. This was the best sleep he’s had in weeks. He almost doesn’t want to open his eyes. He buries himself deeper in his pillow and hears a deep, familiar laugh somewhere behind him. Shiro smiles happily.

And then his brain finally decides to wake up and remind him this is not right.

He fell asleep in the desert.

This doesn’t smell like his bed.

He hasn’t heard Keith laugh in five years and seven months.

He slowly opens his eyes and pushes himself up, almost afraid to look around. The first thing he notices is that the walls around him are not a disgusting shade of avocado-green – they are a light grey with soft purple accents. The next think he notices are the ever so slight vibrations beneath him and the lightness in his body indicating a weaker gravity – he is on a spaceship.

Finally, he turns his head around slowly to where the laugh had come from seconds ago, only to be met with familiar purple eyes and a smile he thought he might never see again.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Keith says.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> \- panic attack  
> \- dismissive and derogatory language about mental illness.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Keith says.

Shiro’s brain short-circuits. He just stares at Keith who is somehow standing behind Shiro, looking like the most spectacular supernova the universe has to offer.

Keith has a smile on his lips as he is pulling his dark hair into a bun. _A bun!_ Shiro feels a tightness in his chest and his eyes start prickling – Keith is here with him and, for the first time in almost six years, the space between them doesn’t feel strained or forced or like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. Shiro’s heart is soaring. Shiro smiles back at his best friend. Who is standing there only in his bright-red boxer briefs!

And that’s when Shiro’s brain decides to kick back in.

What the hell?

_What the hell?!_

Where is he? Why is Keith here and why is he almost naked?

Shiro looks down at himself and doesn’t know whether to be relieved that he’s not completely naked or terrified because, much like Keith, he’s only in his underwear as well.

He tries to think back but he feels like there is a heavy fog in his mind clouding his thoughts and preventing him from coming up with any sane chain of events which might logically explain what is going on.

He fell asleep on Earth. Had he gotten so drunk that he decided stealing a ship from the Garrison and going to search for his estranged best friend was actually a valid idea? How on Earth did he manage that?

He can’t have done that in a night. None of Earth’s ships are that fast, bar the ATLAS and this is not the ATLAS, neither can he feel her anywhere nearby. His mouth feels dry.

How long has he been out? He remembers talking to Allura and, somehow, he thinks that he heard her talk back... in his dream? This was a dream, right? Was it a dream? What did Allura say? He can’t remember. Dammit, why can’t he remember?

Why is Keith smiling at him like they’re still best friends?

Shiro’s left palm is clammy and trembling and his… holy shit, why does he still have the Galran arm? Where is his floating Altean arm? His breaths are coming out uneven and shallow – like his lungs don’t quite have the capacity to draw in all the oxygen needed to sustain his body.

Why is Keith here?

Shiro hasn’t seen Keith in 9 months and 18 days and he shouldn’t be seeing him for another 2 months and 12 days for their annual dinner on New Altea.

Did Shiro call him? Did Keith come to get him from Earth?

Is this a dream again? It’s not like any of Shiro’s other nightmares – Keith doesn’t seem to be in pain; no clone in sight; it doesn’t feel like a nightmare at all. Shiro needs to think. If only his brain would get the memo.

He feels a little sick. Is it because of the difference in gravity? He might throw up – that will be embarrassing.

Keith is looking worried now and moving towards Shiro but it’s all so slow as if he’s in a slow-motion movie scene – Keith would make a very successful actor, Shiro’s brain notes unhelpfully – or if Keith is trying to walk underwater.

Shiro feels dizzy. Where is he? Why is the world spinning?

He can feel his heart beating madly in his chest like it’s trying to power up a whole quiznaking spaceship and Shiro can feel each beat reverberate through his entire body like electricity.

He tries to even out his breathing. He knows what’s happening – he isn’t stupid; he’s had panic attacks before. Somehow this knowledge is not helpful in the slightest.

Where is he? He grasps the sheet beneath him to try and stop his hands from trembling. What is going on?

He gasps for breath, but nothing is coming in. Why is there no air? Is he in open space? His brain is not getting enough oxygen and the edges of his vision are blurring and growing dark by the millisecond. 

Grey walls? Where is he? The growing darkness in his periphery seems to be crawling towards him, threatening to overtake his eyes.

“Shiro,” someone shouts but it’s a faraway and muffled sound, as if Shiro’s head is submerged under water. The voice is familiar, though, and it makes Shiro feel safe for just a second before the burning of his empty lungs draws him back under. Is he drowning? In space? Oh well, he was meant to die a long time ago.

Suddenly he feels a warm and gentle hand touch his wrist. He can hear someone breathe in slowly and loudly next to his ear.

“In,” the voice says, “and then out. Listen to my breaths and breathe it with me. In and then out.”

_In and then out. In and then out._ Shiro can feel the air finally, miraculously, breaching through whatever barrier was blocking it in the first place, and reaching his deprived lungs. The darkness is still there, just at the edges of his eyes, but at least it is not reaching for him anymore.

“Close your eyes,” the voice says gently. Shiro complies readily. It helps with the dizziness. “Can you tell me three things that you can touch?”

Shiro takes a second to think on that. In and then out.

“Your hand,” he starts. It’s like a burning imprint on his wrist keeping him aware that he is still alive; he still has a physical form and isn’t just a consciousness stuck in a void. He continues, “the sheets. They are soft. And...” he struggles to think of a third one. His right hand releases the sheets and feels around him. _There!_ “the pillow.” It’s a relief to finish listing. In and then out.

“Very good.” The hand moves from his wrist to his shoulder without breaking skin contact, leaving a trail of fire in its stead. “Now tell me two things you can hear and one thing you can smell.”

“I hear your breathing.” In and then out. Shiro is no longer shaking. “I hear the ship’s engines too, very quietly. Like a deep thrum underneath me.” 

“Good. Now the smell.”

This is harder. Shiro’s sense of smell has never been great. It’s okay though. He can take his time. The voice didn’t give him a time limit. _In and then out._ He can do it. He’s done well so far. The voice had said so.

He sniffs the air loudly like a dog. The smell is so familiar and overwhelming that Shiro could cry. Like pine trees and forests and nature and freedom incarnate. He releases a long breath.

“Like Keith,” he murmurs. His grip finally eases off the sheet. “It smells like Keith.” He hasn’t been close enough to recognise this smell in years. Keith always sits next to Lance at their annual dinners – as far away from Shiro as possible because they don’t have much to say to each other. _He always has something to say to Lance,_ , Shiro thinks bitterly not for the first time. But not now. Now Keith is close enough to smell. Close enough to touch.

He finally opens his eyes to stare back at his best friend who’s sitting on the bed beside him, hand still clasping Shiro’s shoulder. There is no darkness threatening Shiro’s vision anymore.

“Better?” Keith asks gently. Shiro just nods. He feels drained. Like he could sleep for three days straight even though he has just woken up after gods know how long. It’s been years since he’s had a panic attack and it seems that they don’t improve with experience.

Keith smiles at him again, bright and beautiful. Shiro is still not sure what is happening or how he got here but it doesn’t really matter at the face of this smile – those are problems for later. Keith is here with him acting as if they are still as close as before the clone and Earth and it’s all Shiro can do to not fall apart from the relief of it.

Shiro smiles back at Keith because it’s impossible not to. He feels a wetness to his eyes but this time it isn’t from sadness or grief or desperation.

Shiro twists in the bed to fully face Keith and then pulls his best friend into a hug he’s been craving for years. He buries his face in Keith’s shoulder, hiding both smile and tears in warm skin. Keith is still in his underwear but that, as well, is a question for later. If he tries to think of all of the impossibilities of this situation at once, his brain might shut down again.

Shiro is shaking again but Keith is like a tether keeping him from drifting helplessly in open space and showing him the way home. He must have his own gravitational field because Shiro can feel a pull so strong he might as well be standing at the event horizon of a black hole

“’s okay,” Keith murmurs in that deep, rich voice of his. He’s almost lost his Southern accent. “You are okay. I’m here.”

Shiro just keeps clinging to Keith like an overgrown koala, overwhelmed by feelings he had been shoving to the back of his mind for such a long time. Keith doesn’t say anything else; just hugs him back with that infinite patience and tenderness he’d always reserved just for Shiro.

If this is a dream again, Shiro doesn’t really wish to wake up. In this exact moment Shiro’s daily routine, permanently dissatisfied husband, his missed opportunities and the god-awful avocado walls seem very far away and terribly unimportant. He can forget about all that. _His chains,_ he thinks unkindly. He doesn’t even care how he got here; it’s all so minuscule in comparison to the warm body in his arms.

They stay like that for what seems an eternity wrapped up in a single moment. Shiro doesn’t care. He could stay right here until the end of the universe or until he dies from starvation.

A large _POP_ suddenly snaps Shiro back to reality. The same reality in which he is light years away from where he fell asleep, somehow waking up with the one person he’s been craving to see for years and has no idea how much time has passed between his liberal swings of whiskey and him ending up on a ship in the middle of space.

The same reality where he now has a massive teleporting wolf sitting on his chest, licking his face, and Keith laughing heartily beside him, still pressed as closely as possible as if he couldn’t bear to be away from Shiro. _All in all - not bad._ Shiro scratches the wolf’s ears (he needs to ask Keith if the wolf has finally told him his name) and laughs as well. He hasn’t felt this light in forever. Maybe since before the end of the war or maybe since before he left for Kerberos.

Shiro really doesn’t want to ruin the moment and embarrass himself by admitting he’d drunk himself into oblivion an unspecified amount of time ago and lacks some memories but...

“I should probably call Curtis,” he says, pushing the wolf away from his chest. The wolf looks at him like Shiro has personally offended his whole family, then jumps off of him and, with a whine and a lick at Keith’s face, POPs out of the room.

Curtis must be livid by now. He won’t say anything but Shiro could just imagine the passive-aggressive huffs and eye-rolls he’ll have to endure for weeks before he can get back into Curtis’ good graces. He’d have to buy a flower shop and maybe hire an Italian chef to cook for them at home if he ever hopes to have sex again.

Keith just looks confused. “Who the hell is Curtis?” And that’s ridiculous because while Keith and Curtis have never been the best of friends, Keith was there at Shiro’s wedding day as Shiro’s best man. Is this meant to be Galra humour?

“Haha very funny,” Shiro tries to go for sarcastic but he’s never been very good at it and it’s impossible to look at Keith without smiling so he ends up sounding quite joyous instead. Keith is still staring at him with narrowed eyes as if he can’t quite understand what language they are speaking in. “Matt’s gonna have a field day when I tell him about this,” Shiro murmurs to himself.

“Matt...” Keith’s confusion is washed away by concern but Shiro’s finding it hard to concentrate again. His body is still pressed against Shiro’s side and Shiro feels as if every point where their bare skin is touching is a burning brand. The warmth is dizzying.

All thought evaporates from Shiro’s head when Keith brings his hand to Shiro’s face in a gesture that’s altogether too intimate for them; but, hey, maybe Keith’s become really tactile over the last few years. Weirder things have happened. Hell, weirder things are happening right now. And, what the hell; is that a _wedding band_ adorning Keith’s ring finger? Has he married K’haleb without telling anyone? This is somehow the biggest shock of a surprise-packed morning.

Shiro doesn’t have much time to ponder or ask because next thing he knows Keith’s forehead is touching his and Shiro forgets how to breathe. His heart is beating wildly in his chest. Is he having another panic attack? His body seems to be breaking down part by useless part.

Keith asks gently, “Did you have one of those dreams then? Is that why you had another panic attack just now? You haven’t been this bad since we lost Allura.”

Keith and Shiro have never really talked about Allura’s death. They barely even saw each other for months after she died. Shiro wanted to call Keith so desperately but something had already been broken between them at that point and Shiro felt somehow, he had no right to look for Keith in that moment. And, besides, Shiro didn’t any panic attacks back then; he hasn’t had any since before he died and got stuck in Black for eternity. So Shiro has no idea what Keith is talking about.

“Keith, I don’t know what you mean,” he whispers against Keith’s face and it feels like they are breathing the same air. Shiro’s whole body feels electrified again. Keith’s eyes are so purple – like he has tiny galaxies trapped in his irises; Shiro’s never noticed before. He doesn’t dare blink. Keith’s face is so close Shiro would barely need to move if he wanted to bring their lips together. Are they the type of friends that do this? _What the hell is he thinking?_ This whole thing is messing up his brain and his reactions.

Keith’s next words draw him away from any inappropriate and ridiculous thoughts, “Shiro, did you forget again?” Keith’s voice sounds so sad and broken and Shiro never wants to hear it like that again. He strokes Keith’s side almost unthinkingly trying to soothe whatever pain his friend is carrying. “Matt’s dead, Shiro,” Keith says, and it sounds like a practised line – like one he’s repeated a hundred times before. But Shiro doesn’t understand what he is saying because it makes no sense.

“No, Keith. I just saw him yesterday,” Shiro says. Has Keith lost his memories? If he doesn’t remember Curtis or Matt? Only, Keith seems to remember Matt; he’s just saying nonsense. What is happening? Does Allura talking to him in his sleep have anything to do with all this… weirdness? “How long was I asleep, Keith? Matt is not dead, Keith. He is on Earth with Pidge.”

Keith is shaking his head now, his forehead still pressing into Shiro’s. He breathes in and closes his eyes looking pained. A single tear escapes his overflowing eyes and tracks down his face, settling in the dip of his nose. Shiro brings his left hand up and wipes it with his thumb; Keith’s skin is soft. He wishes he could turn back time to a few minutes ago when Keith was happy and laughing. He never should have mentioned Curtis or Matt… or anyone.

“It’s okay, Keith. You’ll see. Matt’s alive,” Shiro continues to stroke Keith’s side but it doesn’t seem to work. If anything, Keith only looks more hurt as if every word Shiro says is tearing his chest open.

“No, Shiro, we’ve talked about this - Matt died five years ago at New Taujeer.” What is Keith talking about? As far as Shiro is aware, Matt has never stepped foot on New Taujeer.

“Keith, come on. This is ridiculous. We can call Pidge right now if you don’t believe me,” Shiro tries to sound calm and reasonable to make Keith believe him. It doesn’t work. Keith pulls away and it shouldn’t upset Shiro as much as it does.

“Shiro, don’t do this to her again. Here,” Keith reaches out blindly to grab a tablet from the bedside table, his eyes never leaving Shiro’s. He starts tapping on it quickly, searching for something. “Here. I hate doing this… but… look, you made this to… remind yourself whenever you don’t believe me.” He hands Shiro the tablet and Shiro can only stare dumbfounded at his own face staring back from the screen.

Except it’s not him. Not really. This Shiro has a full head of black hair like before the Kerberos mission. He still has the Galra arm (much like Shiro currently but this is just another thing to add to the _Things to think about later_ list that his brain is compiling) and he looks somehow younger and leaner like during Shiro’s Voltron days even though the date at the corner of the screen shows the video was made only two years ago. Also, and maybe his brain should have led with that – Shiro has no recollection of ever recording this video.

Shiro looks at Keith uncertainly. He wants to ask so many questions, but Keith’s eyes are pleading, and he nods encouragingly at Shiro so, really, Shiro has no choice here. He presses the PLAY button.

“Hi, Shiro. This is… well, it’s you,” The Other Shiro scowls at the camera. “Quiznak, this is stupid. Obviously, I can recognise myself.” _That’s clearly not true_ , **Real** Shiro thinks because he clearly cannot recognise this man.

“It’s okay, Shiro,” Keith’s voice sounds from the tablet - exasperated but fond and standing somewhere outside of the camera angle. “I’m sure future-you won’t expect you to be smoother in front of the camera than he is.”

Other Shiro looks to the right of the camera smiling happily at what Real Shiro assumes is Keith. Despite the smile on Other Shiro’s face though, his body looks stiff and tense, as if he isn’t particularly keen on doing whatever he is doing.

Other Shiro turns back to the camera and blinks. “Quiznak, okay. As I know… dammit, as you know…” Other Shiro rubs his neck with his metal arm, then breathes in deeply and continues, “you sometimes have vivid… episodes and can’t remember what’s real and what’s not straight after.” _What the hell?_ Is Other Shiro crazy? Does Keith think Shiro is crazy? “You don’t always believe Keith when he tells you that you’re no longer in the lion… or that Zarkon is dead, or that Keith is alive and safe, or that you’re not in the Arena or… or that Matt is dead…” Other Shiro’s eyes are shining a little and he looks away at that. Shiro’s heart clenches. This can’t be real. Is this another clone? “...or a number of other shitty memories.

“So, this is you telling you that whatever Keith says is true. Listen to him Shiro. Don’t fight him, don’t try to cut off your metal arm, don’t call Pidge again to try and convince her Matt’s alive. Just give it like half an hour – it will come back to you. It always does.” With that, the video ends. Shiro wants to press the REPLAY button desperately but, at the same time, doesn’t want to hear what the Other Shiro said again. Can it be true? Is Shiro truly crazy and just misremembering things; he is missing the memories of how he got here, after all? Is Matt dead?

Shiro breathes in deeply and tries to slow down his brain before he has another breakdown.

No, that can’t be true. Other Shiro video said he usually has an episode where he relives a traumatic event or loses some time, forgetting about some other event. But Shiro’s not missing anything – he remembers all of the events since his take off for Kerberos as clearly as if it were yesterday. And he hasn’t had an episode (he had a panic attack yes, but that was caused from waking up in a spaceship with a nearly naked Keith rather than any of the traumatic events of his past) or relived anything traumatic this morning.

If anything, he seems to be remembering stuff that Keith or other Shiro don’t – who Curtis is, that his hair is no longer black and he’s exchanged the Galran arm with an Altean one, and that he had coffee with Matt just yesterday (or however many days ago that was). So that leaves him with the clone theory?

But Keith also said that Matt had died five years ago – he also remembers it. Plus, he’s seen Shiro after that (albeit briefly); he had agreed to be his best man and came to his wedding even if they hadn’t been as close as before; he was there when his hair and arm were changed. Keith couldn’t have been fooled by a clone then. Shiro was there for quiznak’s sake.

So that leaves him with… what? One other possibility that he can think of – or rather an infinite amount of possibilities… And he hadn’t been close to any trans-reality holes or comets and he had heard Allura’s voice in his dream… Does that mean… Could it have been her? He feels like reality is slipping through his fingers again (maybe quite literally) and tries to rail his thoughts back in and act rationally.

Keith squeezes Shiro’s flesh hand and Shiro looks at him and smiles tentatively. He doesn’t want to bring tears into his eyes again and he doesn’t want him to think Shiro’s crazy. He needs more information. He needs to know what’s going on before he can make his case (whatever that case may be).

He can’t just ask Keith outright or he’ll think Shiro is having another episode or going insane again.

“How often do I… forget?” he forces the word out of his mouth – it feels so wrong.

“It doesn’t have a pattern. It just happens sometimes. We haven’t figured out what triggers it.” Shiro wonders how many times Keith has had to have this conversation with Other Shiro, and his heart breaks a little; even though Keith’s voice is patient and full of kindness, his eyes look full of pain. “Sometimes you’ll go months without an episode; other times you might have two in a week.”

Suddenly, Shiro doesn’t want to talk about it anymore; doesn’t want to hear about whatever suffering his doppelganger has caused Keith.

There are too many questions running through his head. He needs to find out what’s going on without Keith here to worry about his mental state. But Keith won’t leave him willingly, not after what happened. Not unless he thinks it’s what’s best for Shiro.

So Shiro says, “It’s okay. I’m okay now. I just… I need some time alone if that’s alright.” He immediately feels bad about his words. It’s not lying exactly but it is manipulative and, if he’s being honest, it is kind of a lie because being without Keith is probably the last thing he wants right now.

Keith blinks at him but nods agreeably. Has Other Shiro made similar requests after his ‘episodes’ or is it that this Keith (and it’s so hard to think that this happy, smiling Keith that still considers him a friend may very well not be _his_ Keith) still can’t say No to anything that Shiro asks?

“I’ll just be at the bridge. We are still pretty far away from Nael’llar Kxhen but Acxa has been nagging me to finally finish up the reports from Fylvaleryon for Kolivan,” he smiles sheepishly and stands up. Shiro feels cold seep through his skin now that’s Keith’s scorching touch is not on him.

Keith finally, mercifully begins to dress and Shiro tries to look away and not feel like a creep, even though they’ve just been sitting in bed together for probably an hour wearing nothing but boxer briefs. Maybe that’s normal for this reality’s Shiro and Keith.

When he looks up, Keith is finally, blessedly dressed and Shiro feels like he can think a bit more clearly – he’d never had any idea that nudity would bother him so much before. It never used to. Maybe Curtis has managed to instil his own feelings about propriety in Shiro.

Shit, Curtis! Would he even notice that Shiro is missing if Shiro’s alternate reality theory is correct? Or would it be like no time has passed when Shiro comes back? He wishes he could talk to Allura. Maybe he can try and beg her for answers when Keith is out of the room. Perhaps she will answer him, like she has done last night – not that Shiro has any evidence for that either.

“Get me if you need anything,” Keith says and then, before Shiro has any time to react, he is leaning over and his lips are on Shiro’s.

It’s quick and dry, nothing more than a peck but Shiro freezes for what seems to be the thirtieth time this morning. Keith smiles at whatever reaction he is seeing on Shiro’s face and then _winks_ at him and steps out of the room through a door on the left wall, before Shiro can gather enough brain power to move blink.

Shiro’s hand rises at its own volition to touch his lips. They are tingling. His face feels hot.

His best friend just kissed him like it was nothing. After Shiro woke up nearly naked in a bedroom with said best friend who was also nearly naked. And who had a mysterious wedding band and held him like this was nothing outside of normal. Is Shiro really that slow? Shiro can feel his full body blushing at the implication.

He grabs the tablet Keith has left behind. It scans his retinas and fingerprints and unlocks. It recognises him and unlocks.

He swipes through the information he doesn’t understand and has no use of – data about shipments and supplies and different planets – and opens the app he’s seen Keith press to open the video before. It’s full of photos. Of him and Keith. _Of Other Shiro and Keith._ At different planets, sometimes with aliens, but mostly just the two of them. They look happy, always smiling, sometimes kissing in front of a particularly breath-taking view.

He locks the tablet again unable to bear any more of the photos.

He looks around the room. There is a double door on the wall to his right and another one on the opposite wall. He jumps from the bed with surprising agility and presses the button to open the double door. It’s a wardrobe. And while half of the clothes inside clearly belong to Keith, the other half are bigger and seem the perfect fit for Other Shiro’s lean and defined body.

He moves to the other door, the one across from the bed, and walks into an en-suite bathroom. Two toothbrushes and a shaving kit greet him from the sink. Galra don’t shave so it can’t be Keith’s Galran lover, K’hris, and Shiro has never known Keith to grow any facial hair – judging by the soft skin he just touched, Keith still has no need to shave. 

One of the cupboards reveals a packet of black hair dye – Aha! – and more medicine than Shiro has seen in his life. Some of it is from Earth – paroxetine, guanfacine, prazosin – while others look completely alien and have writing and signs that Shiro can’t read. Is this all for Other Shiro? How does Keith live with this? It must be such a burden.

Shiro avoids looking at the mirror – he’s already seen what Other Shiro looks like and he doesn’t think he can bear to see himself in this body. This sick, broken body that somehow manages to look happier than Shiro’s healthy, sane one in all those pictures on the tablet. The body of Keith’s husband.

Shiro turns his back to the bathroom and collapses back-first on the bed. What is he supposed to do with this? Can he tell Keith? Would Keith even believe him, or would he think it’s just one of Other Shiro’s insane episodes but worse? Would Shiro start some irreversible and apocalyptic chain of events if he tells anyone about what’s happening? Can he risk that? Too many questions and not a single quiznaking answer.

“Allura, did you do this?” He looks up at the ceiling half-hoping for an answer and half-dreading it. Nothing happens but he didn’t expect it to work the first time. “Please, please tell me what’s going on,” he pleads. “Is this another reality? Is this Shiro… another me? Is this what I was meant to become?”

Again, only silence follows his words. Dammit.

He tries again, “Is this real? Or is it just in my head… just to show me?” No answer. Shiro groans.

Shiro throws an arm over his face and tries to force his brain into action. If that had truly been Allura talking to him in that dream, what did she say? Something about chains. He squeezes his eyes and scrunches up his whole face as if that will help in any way, but his mind draws blank.

The tablet pings next to him, pulling him out of his useless concentration. He grabs it to see it’s a message from Lance. So, him and Keith are close in this universe. Guilt churns at Shiro’s gut as he clicks on the message, but he needs any information that he can get at this point and he tries to comfort himself with the thought that Keith would hardly try to hide anything from Other Shiro.

 **Hey man, can you grab those sweet fruits from Daibazaal on your way here. Eleaele has been talking about them since the last time you visited** , the message reads.

Who is Eleaele? Does Lance have an Altean girlfriend in this reality? He types back, **_Hey Lance, this is Shiro. I will tell Keith about the sweet fruits._**

What else can he say without being too obvious about needing information? Are Lance and Other Shiro as close as Shiro and his Lance? He can feel the beginning of a headache.

Thankfully, Lance has always been the most talkative and open out of the five of them and the tablet pings again before Shiro can overthink the situation.

**Thanks, Shiro. How are you doing? Keith mentioned you were down with some alien virus from Fylvaleryon last week. I hope you are feeling better. Can’t be ill for the Festival of Life.**

Shiro will need to find out what the Festival of Life is as it sounds like it might be in his immediate future if Lance thinks a virus can affect his enjoyment of it.

Before he can think of an inconspicuous way to ask about it, the tablet lights up with a second message from Lance. Shiro drops the tablet to the floor. The screen cracks but doesn’t turn off. Shiro stares at the message blindly, his brain refusing to comprehend and translate it to words that Shiro can understand.

 _No…_ It can’t be. Keith said they’d lost her. He said Shiro hasn’t been this bad since they lost her.

But whatever Keith has said doesn’t change the content of the message that Lance has sent: 

**Allura is gutted she can’t attend this year, but you know how the Coalition is. She said she is booking time off for next year so we can come and watch it with you guys.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to upload this next weekend but I realised I wouldn't have any time, so I am posting it now instead. Though it might mean it will be more than a fortnight until I can plan out and write the next chapter depending on how much time I have and whether my muse hits me. 
> 
> So, I wasn't planning to go into this territory at all. I had planned out for a very light chapter containing some shock, some obliviousness and a little unintentional pining but when I started writing, it just didn't seem possible that Shiro would just say 'wow, weird' and then move on with little reaction. Once I started writing actual shock and inability to handle the situation, it simply started looking as a panic attack, which to me seems appropriate in the situation. 
> 
> Then, suddenly my brain started thinking about what would have happened (in my view) if Shiro had actually stopped and faced his past, his trauma and his experiences and I don't think his mental health would have come unscratched, hence the idea of a Shiro who is in a constant battle with his demons was born and my brain couldn't let it go.
> 
> The POV Shiro (or our Shiro) is being dismissive and offensive because he is too afraid to look at a version of himself that has tried (and in his opinion) failed to work through and deal with his trauma. I hope this makes sense. 
> 
> I'm sorry this story has taken a drastic turn and has turned into something more serious if this is not what you signed up for with the previous lighter chapter. But this is the first time I actually know what people mean when they say they couldn't control the story because it literally just happened without any intention.
> 
> Anyhow, sorry about long note. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> As always, polite and constructive criticism is more than welcome and feel free to point out any linguistic/grammatical errors as English is not my first language and I am my own proof-reader.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at the end of the chapter.

Shiro has no idea how many hours (should he be counting in vargas now that he’s in space?) pass before he summons enough energy and will-power to get up from the bed. He avoids looking at the broken tablet, which sits abandoned face down on the bedside table. _Away from the eyes – away from the mind!_

He hasn’t responded to Lance’s message. He doesn’t know what to say without revealing he’s not the real Other Shiro. _The **real** Other Shiro!_ This sounds almost as surreal as getting stuck in a mechanical lion’s consciousness while your body is turns to space dust. But surreal has always been the word to describe Shiro’s life so he just shoves it back in that little box in his mind where he locks all the feelings and thoughts he prefers not to unpack at the moment.

His legs wobble as he stands in front of the wardrobe, trying to choose amongst the offensive pink clothes that Other Shiro seems to favour. He groans. 

All of Keith’s clothes seem to be in normal colours - black and red with purple and grey here and there - but all of the bigger clothes, which presumably belong to Other Shiro, seem to be in some unnatural shade of pink or other and some of them are even sporting crazy patterns, animals or flowers. Shiro is not sure how he missed this when he opened the wardrobe earlier – it looks like a unicorn has thrown up an entirely pink rainbow in here and Shiro might follow that example if his stomach didn’t feel as empty as a gaping hole. He doesn’t understand how any version of himself would dress like a walking circus. The multi-verse theory is not big enough to accommodate a fashion criminal as bad as Other Shiro.

Unfortunately, this Shiro doesn’t have much choice as none of Keith’s (normal-coloured) tight clothes would fit him. Keith remains slim despite his sudden growth spurt a few years ago when he suddenly shot upwards, in what one could only assume was a delayed Galra puberty and became as tall as Shiro. Or maybe this reality’s Keith has always been as tall as Shiro – who the hell knows. Fuck. Shiro’s lungs feel constricted, as if a giant snake has wrapped itself around him, choking the air before and squeezing him down into nothingness. This is such a quiznaking mess. 

Shiro ends up pulling out a pair of black pants with a _pink_ accent running down the leg and a blindingly _pink_ shirt with purple octopuses on it. _Other Shiro should reconsider his life or maybe be shot into a white dwarf._ What the hell is wrong with his eyes? 

Shiro can’t believe he’ll have to wear these for an unspecified amount of time. In front of people most likely. In front of Keith! Other Shiro has no shame!

Shiro wishes that whoever (hopefully Allura) has dumped him in this reality, had thought to also bring his clothes. No such luck though.

It’s fine. It will all be fine soon. This is not permanent. These clothes do not represent an inevitable and inescapable future that Shiro has no say in. His right arm spasms and the familiar dread crawls through his body but it’s fine because he knows it’s not real. He doesn’t have a right arm. Not a flesh one that has muscles that can spasm, anyway.

Shiro has already spent too long trying to process the situation without having another meltdown, which seems to be impossible, so he has just pushed everything back into his box. For later. Or hopefully never. 

He’s come up with a plan (sort of), which he thinks would have the least consequences for everyone. Which is to say, he has decided to do nothing until he can see Allura. This Allura. _Who is alive!_ Despite what Keith had said before about Shiro being a mess after losing her. _She is alive._

Shiro would give anything to be able to turn this ship around (or spur it forward because who knows where in Quiznak’s name they are at the moment) right now and head to wherever Allura and Lance are (probably New Altea). He needs to see her with his own eyes and touch her before he can believe Lance’s words. There are pins and needles in his chest and his breaths are burning his lungs as if a hot poker has been shoved down his throat. He shoves everything back down, to the bottom of the unwanted pile of feelings. 

There is no way he can turn this ship around without giving himself away (best case scenario) or Keith deciding he is completely crazy (worst case scenario). _There are too many unknowns at the moment_ , he reasons with himself for the hundredth time. 

What if this turns out to be a nightmare reality like the one the other Paladins visited back when Shiro was trapped in Black’s consciousness? Or he somehow ends up blowing up this universe by revealing he doesn’t belong here? It’s best to wait. Bide his time. Gather more information and work through all the thoughts currently locked in the tiny box in his brain, but slowly – one at a time. Unpack them carefully to avoid damage. No matter how much he wants to see Allura, to check that she is real and talk to her and just hug her for phoebs without letting go. He’s used to not getting what he wants.

From Lance’s message, it seems that Keith and Shiro should be heading towards wherever Allura is soon enough, which means Shiro will just have to wait and pretend to know what’s going on around him for a little while. How on Earth he’s going to do that is beyond him, but he must make do. The thought of pretending to be Keith’s husband makes his whole body freeze in panic. 

But it will be fine. Once he’s seen Allura, it will all be fixed – she’ll know what to do. Even if she wasn’t the one to bring him here, she’ll still know a heck of lot more than him. She’ll be able to get him back to his own reality and his own clothes and to _his_ husband. Hopefully!

He almost wishes he could take the clothes off and go back to bed but Keith, and whoever else is on this ship, might suspect something if he doesn’t move from the room all day and he isn’t sure how long he’s been sitting here contemplating already. 

So, he pulls himself together, breathes in deeply, and tries to forget about what he’s wearing; forget about the broken tablet on the bedside table; forget about all of the questions swirling in his head giving him vertigo; forget about the stupid box. He opens the door and steps into a grey-purple corridor. 

He looks right, then left. He blinks. He has no idea which way the bridge would be. 

He’s not about to find out by just standing there so he breathes in once again in an attempt to ground himself and turns left, hoping it’s the right direction. This ship is nothing like any he’s been on before, but it should be easy enough to find the bridge – after all, it is the biggest, most important room on board. 

He makes a turn, then another, following the natural curve of the corridor and there - massive double doors in front of him that look promising. He places his palm on the bio-scanner, hoping this… _quintessence_ displacement has not affected any of his bio-readings.

It seems that luck is on his side (finally!) and he has gotten the right door on his first try. The doors open to reveal a spacious room – still about a quarter of the size of the bridge on the Castle of Lions. Half of it is covered in in monitors, controls and computers of all shapes and sizes. The other half is entirely made of pressure glass, providing a spectacular view star-speckled view stretching to infinity.

Shiro feels the tension leaving his body. He’s missed this. This view. This sense of insignificance when faced with the sheer magnitude and magnificence of space. His lungs feel like they are finally released from a pressure Shiro never knew existed and he is finally able to breathe again. 

Keith looks up from the map projected in the middle of the room and smiles radiantly at Shiro with a gentleness in his purple eyes that Shiro has never seen before (although, it is probably a normal sight for Other Shiro) and it’s too blinding. It feels like staring directly into a burning star.

Shiro looks around the rest of the room as naturally as possible. He recognises Acxa and Ezor standing near Keith. They are a part of Keith’s crew in Shiro’s own reality as well and it makes him feel a little better to find this tiny similarity, a feeble bridge between two universes. 

A little further away, there are two massive Galrans that Shiro’s never seen before. He hopes they don’t try and strike a conversation with him before he manages to learn their names or who they are – for all he knows, they could be Other Shiro’s best friend and he doesn’t want to navigate non-existent memories of years-long camaraderie with strangers.

Thankfully, no one comments on Shiro’s clothes. Small mercies. Although, it’s probably because the screaming pink is nothing new for Other Shiro, which somehow make Shiro feel even more embarrassed for his counterpart’s choices.

“We are just finalising the mission’s details,” Keith says. _Quiznak’s balls!_

Seeing as he can’t just stand awkwardly at the edge of the room for vargas, Shiro moves to stand next to Keith in front of the massive holo-map. He inclines his head and nods a few times, trying to look like he is contemplating what’s on the map. 

He tries to think of something to say without giving away his complete and utter lack of knowledge, while simultaneously being inquisitive enough to grant an explanation and details of said mission. He is coming up short when Axca saves him, “We’re just deciding on the teams.”

Keith’s arm casually encircles Shiro’s waist and Shiro turns around by instinct only to come face to face with brilliant eyes shining like wolf-rayet stars and a dangerously smirking mouth mere inches away from his own. Shiro swallows and hopes he’s not going to start sweating now. He is sure his face is about to burst into flames. 

He tries to school his face into something that doesn’t scream _‘I’m from another reality’_ but he is not completely convinced of his success. Keith doesn’t seem to mind though as he leans in and brushes Shiro’s nose with his own in a painfully intimate gesture of affection. The touch sends an electric current down Shiro’s spine and he inclines his head to return the gentle touch. He has a façade to keep up after all. 

Acxa coughs sounding a little like someone who’s never heard a real cough before in their life, and Keith pulls away a little but keeps his arm on Shiro, a tether startingly alien and somehow so painfully familiar.

Keith finally pulls his intense gaze away from Shiro and looks at the others. It feels like being suddenly released into zero-gravity. Shiro shakes his head to clear it and tries to slow down his heartbeat – he needs to understand and remember as much of this conversation as he can. 

“Ezor and Acxa will be doing the heavy lifting,” Keith says. ”– they’ll be getting the information we need on the network. Shiro and I will be sneaking in the hangar to disable their ships.” Shiro goes stiff at that, phantom pins and needles crawling up his mechanical arm. Keith looks back at him. “That is, if you feel better,” Keith says much more quietly, for Shiro’s ears only. “I can take K’hart of Lalhaexa if you’re still not feeling well.” Keith nods behind him towards the two Galrans that Shiro doesn’t know.

Oh. _Oh!_ So one of these is the infamous boyfriend. 

Shiro tries not to frown at the Galrans who haven’t really done anything to him. Which one is K’hart? Is he in love with Keith in this reality as well? 

Keith is still looking at him waiting for a response.

Shiro knows he is being given a way out of a difficult situation full of dangerous unknowns and he should take it. He can wait out the mission and use the time to gain some more information. 

But this doesn’t sound like a humanitarian mission and Shiro would willingly walk back into Zarkon’s arena and fight a thousand wars before he lets Keith jump into a dangerous situation with bloody K’hart as his partner. Keith is _his best friend_ after all.

Shiro never did know when to chicken out and back down. Not when it comes to Keith. Any Keith at any point in his life in any reality – be it one who hates him or one who thinks they are married or one who doesn’t even know Shiro.

“No,” Shiro says with much more confidence than he feels. “I’m okay now. I can do it,” he adds. 

Keith nods and continues, “It’s vital that we get the information at the same time as disabling their ships. And it all needs to happen without alerting them or rousing any suspicion. We can’t risk them catching on and destroying the data or flying off and having to chase them on an inhabited planet – things could get messy. So, timing’s key.” Shiro has seen Keith snap orders before, he’s seen him taking reluctant command and laying out plans, but it has never been like this – so confident, calm and competent, explaining his thinking instead of just expecting everyone to follow. 

Shiro has been right after all – the mantle of leadership does suit Keith. Much better than it ever did Shiro. 

“As soon as we’ve got the files and their ships are not operational, I’ll give the signal,” Keith says. “J’skeh, Zethrid, Lalhaexa and Rogog will come in with the wolf to back us up and we shouldn’t have problem apprehending the separatists – our intel says there’s only seven or eight of them and none were high-ranking members of the Empire military. These are just soldiers who think they are following the right orders, so we’ll try to take them alive and as unharmed as possible. Should be easy.” It doesn’t sound easy. Why on Earth have Other Shiro and Keith signed up to continue with this life once the war was over. Why are they not doing humanitarian missions or living the good retired life on a far away planet? The answer’s there before he even looks for it. _We are made of stars._ Keith could never just retire, not even in Shiro’s dreams.

“Semex and K’hart will be our extraction if something goes South but I don’t expect it will,” Keith finishes, nodding to Acxa.

“I’ve sent detailed layout of the area surrounding the base the criminals are hiding in to each of you to look over,” Acxa says. “Our intel team couldn’t get a good scan of the base itself because of the atmosphere of the planet but we expect it will be similar in layout to a standard Empire base on a class H6B world like this one, so we should be fine.” Shiro has no idea what a standard Empire base on any world looks like and he hopes there are schematics somewhere on the system that he can look over before this mission.

“When are we arriving?” one of the massive silent Galrans, who might be K’hart, asks. His voice is scratchy and unpleasant. 

“Eleven vargas so I suggest you head straight to bed if you don’t want to fall asleep during the mission and get yourself killed,” Ezor replies cheerfully from the control panel, creepy and morbid as ever. 

“She’s right,” Keith agrees and squeezes Shiro’s waist in a possessive way. “Mission prep starts in seven vargas so we best all catch some shut-eye before then. Ezor, get Shaenakx to take over navigation and control and go to bed. Zethrid must have warmed it up already.” One of the Galrans snickers at that. 

Shiro’s never seen Keith act so easily with other people, not even with the other paladins. Sure, they are close now, especially Keith and Lance (weirdly enough), but it didn’t use to be that way. Keith was always a little on the outskirts, a little closed off to anyone but Shiro – a lone wolf that only let one other soul close enough to touch. It always made Shiro feels special even if he wanted to see Keith make other friends. 

Ezor jumps happily and goes to kiss Keith’s cheek before she bounces out of the door giggling, “I hope you finally let Shiro sleep in peace for one night.” Shiro’s whole body freezes in mortification and he can feel yet another blush creep back onto his face. 

Keith’s smirk looks downright predatory, and Shiro shouldn’t really be surprised because his best friend has always had a dangerous edge to him and it’s only natural that he is the same in love as he is in flight – an explosion that Shiro just can’t look away from. Shiro doesn’t know what to do with this newfound knowledge and he wishes for a simpler time when he didn’t know what Keith’s flirtatious face looks like.

Keith finally releases his waist to grab his hand instead. Shiro’s not sure if that’s any better. It’s not really a choice when he follows – he’s never had to think twice on whether or not to go after Keith. Shiro lets himself be pulled out the door and down the corridor towards _their_ bedroom. He recognises the way now.

The wolf is waiting for them sprawled on the bed. He jumps off as soon as he sees Keith walking in and gives a little whine, bowing his large head in submission. 

Keith tsks at him. “No wolves on the bed, you know the rule. Mornings are an exception because I know you miss us during the night.” There is laughter in his voice though and apparently the wolf can sense it, so he jumps happily to lick Keith’s face. 

He then turns to look at Shiro and Shiro can swear there is suspicion in his eyes, as if the wolf can tell this is not the right Shiro. The wolf sniffs at him and turns back to look at Keith. 

“It’s just Shiro. What’s wrong with you today?” Keith says as if he and the wolf can actually talk to each other. Maybe they can. It seems like everything is upside down in this reality. What the hell does Shiro know?

“Are you sure you’re well enough to be on the mission tomorrow?” Keith asks then, voice gentle, bringing Shiro back from the chaos that has erupted in his mind at the revelation that Keith can talk to space animals. “I know you said you want to do it, but I’d prefer to put someone else in if you think it’s better to sit this this one out.” 

It’s not mistrust – Shiro recognises that; it’s just Keith checking if all of his men are capable of carrying out their tasks. It still stings a little to be questioned like that even if Shiro knows that it’s irrational to feel this way. 

More importantly - it’s another out that Shiro could take if he was smarter. Unfortunately, he is so, so very stupid. “I’m fine,” he lies. “I always have your back,” he says truthfully. 

“I know,” Keith smiles and Shiro’s insides drop like he’s just dived off a cliff without a hoverbike. “Just wanted to make sure. Let’s go to bed.” 

Keith begins stripping and Shiro’s head suddenly starts spinning like a blitzar. He turns towards the wall as quickly as possible before he can see any skin. 

He knows he is being ridiculous - the Blades’ uniforms leave very little to the imagination – Keith is as good as naked even when he’s fully dressed. Besides, Shiro’s seen him naked before – they’ve used communal showers in the Garrison and on the Castle of Lions and they’ve been in a decontamination chamber together. 

This is different. 

Seeing Keith in his underwear while standing in their bedroom and pretending for all intents and purposes to be Keith’s husband… it’s not a situation Shiro’s ever thought he’d find himself in and he prefers not to make his future interactions with the Keith of his universe any more awkward than they have to be.

Shiro undresses as quickly as possible and jumps under the covers hoping this would not be considered weird behaviour for Other Shiro. He keeps his back to Keith.

Keith flicks the light off and climbs in the bed behind him. Only then does Shiro realises the grave error he’s made in his panicked hurry to hide under the covers.

Long lean legs intertwine with his and a warm chest presses against his back. Keith’s skin is so warm that Shiro feels it might just melt his off. Shiro wishes there was a layer of cloth between them to keep him safe and protect his body from igniting and burning out in Keith’s atmosphere.

He just lays there, frozen in his own head, as scorching hot arms envelop him and squeeze gently as if he is something small and precious, something to be guarded and cared for. Keith has always been the only person in his life to cast himself in the role of the protector when it comes to Shiro. To everyone else, he’s always been the hero, the one who’ll save the world… Not to Keith. He’s always been the exception to every rule ever made.

Soft lips press to Shiro’s neck. 

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” Keith asks behind him, warm breath fanning over Shiro’s nape.

“Hm?” Shiro says unintelligently. 

“The double-sunset on Nael’llar Kxhen,” Keith implores like that clarifies everything. “I did some research and, if the mission goes according to plan, we should be able to take one of their ships to the planet’s tallest peak just in time for the sunsets.” So, this is where all of those pictures on the broken tablets are from – catching sunsets after missions all over the galaxy. “Like shitty Star Wars,” Keith adds and Shiro snorts.

He hasn’t had this conversation in years, but it seems Keith’s bizarre dislikes transcend realities. Out of everything that’s different here, Keith’s the only thing that is the same.

“You are surely the only space pilot who hates Star Wars,” Shiro feels like he has travelled through time rather than reality and he is back in his quarters in the Garrison arguing with a grumpy cadet and trying to change his opinion on a cinematic classic he’s never even watched. “How can you dislike them so much without ever seeing them?” 

“What do you mean I haven’t?” Keith sounds almost offended. “Did you suddenly forget that you made me watch them all with you as your engagement gift. I wish I could forget it too – that’s how bad these movies are.”

So Other Shiro’s finally made Keith watch them with him. And Keith still hated them but he’s still trying to find planets with double sunsets just because Other Shiro seems to share this Shiro’s obsession with seeing Tatooine. Shiro’s chest suddenly feels heavy and filled with something that tastes too much like bitterness mixed with longing. 

He hasn’t even been to the desert to watch the sunset in years – it felt too much like a betrayal to do it by himself – let alone done something as thrilling as discovering new planets that look like Star Wars worlds.

“I am excited,” Shiro says and means it. This is what he was supposed to do – he was meant to explore galaxies, fly amongst stardust and watch double sunsets with his best friend – before the Galra showed up and turned them all in sacrificial symbols and child-soldiers. Sadness catches in in his throat, filling it up to the brim with memories he prefers to forget until it feels like it might spill out through his eyes. He squeezes them tightly.

As if sensing the change in his mood, Keith squeezes him tighter without saying anything else. His blazing heat doesn’t feel overpowering and dangerous anymore. It feels good against Shiro’s back – like a hearth that somehow warms Shiro’s insides and making him feel safe for the first time since he woke up this morning.

Sleep comes easy after that pulling him in the always-purple debris of his unconsciousness.

He dreams of Allura but doesn’t really know whether it’s a real dream or another reality within his dream. He doesn’t know that there is a difference between the two. Allura probably knows. He thinks he might ask her, or maybe he’s asked already? 

She tells him to stay and feel free or maybe she doesn’t. He voice is like a thousand storms rolled into the sweet melody of a waterfall flowing towards eternity.

Everything is so pink around him – it was her preferred colour after all. The colour of mourning. Maybe he should change his whole wardrobe to pink. He hasn’t stopped mourning since he was eleven years old. Oh wait, his wardrobe is already pink. When did he change it? 

Could Allura turn the whole universe pink? Surely, she already has. 

There is some limit, some end date she is warning him about in between bursts of light and laughter and warmth but he isn’t really paying attention. He prefers to just look at her face and the way she talks to him, smiling and kind and alive, alive, alive…

Shiro is not sure of much. He wishes this is all true and so it must be – in his head, at the very least. It’s all too muddled up but he has no desire to clarify it. There is no need to. It is a dream after all. 

Then Allura disappears amidst a flurry of sparks and junipers and he is dreaming of Keith once again. Like every other night.

Only, it’s not like his usual dreams. Keith is fine and he is in bed with him, sleeping safely and cuddling close to Shiro. No sign of the clone or of anything even remotely dangerous around them. Shiro smiles and buries his face in Keith’s hair, breathing him in. He is permitted to do this much in a dream. 

Keith mumbles quietly and scrunches up his nose and it’s so cute Shiro’s chest feels like it might burst. His mouth might split from smiling. 

Keith opens his eyes, all slow reluctance to let go of his sleep. He never was a morning person. 

But when his magnetic eyes land on Shiro, he smiles lazily and presses into him, nuzzling into his neck, and then biting down lightly. 

And oh… Shiro’s never had _that_ kind of dream about Keith before, which is probably weirder because anyone with eyes would have _that_ kind of dream about Keith. 

Shiro presses back and _Quiznak! This is not a dream!_ the memories of the previous day finally come crashing down into his brain, but his body doesn’t seem to care, way ahead of him in terms of a reaction to the pleasant pressure.

This seems to spur Keith on, and his grinning mouth collides with Shiro’s and it feels like inevitability and years of pent up gravity finally pulling them together. Like everything else Keith does, it feels like a challenge and a promise rolled in one and Shiro’s never been able to back down from any challenge that Keith has extended. 

Something snaps and Shiro’s hands fly to Keith’s back pulling him as close as possible, trying to merge them into one. Keith groans against his mouth and it’s the hottest thing that Shiro’s ever heard in his life.

Keith kisses with the intensity he does everything else with and it is burning Shiro from the inside out, melting his core until all that’s left inside him is Keith’s name spelt out with the shine of a billion stars.

Shiro’s hands slide into Keith’s hair and it feels frightening and frighteningly natural, like it’s something he’s been doing for years in his head but is just attempting in reality at this moment. 

Keith licks into his mouth all confidence and daring and it shouldn’t feel so good. It’s never felt this good before and Shiro doesn’t think he can go back to the other, normal kind of kissing now that he’s had a taste of Keith. 

It’s so overwhelming and new and amazing that it almost drowns out the stab of guilt that skewers through Shiro’s gut like a rusted nail as suddenly Curtis and K’hart (bloody K’hart really?) pop into his head. What the hell is he doing? This Keith may not be with K’hart – he may be married to Other Shiro – but Shiro is married to Curtis. Oh gods, he is _married to Curtis_ , yet here is kissing the soul out of his best friend. 

The spell breaks and Shiro pulls away from Keith, avoiding his beautiful, kind eyes to hide the guilt and truth in his own. 

Keith rubs his nose in Shiro’s shoulder affectionately and pulls away with reluctance.

“I wish we could continue this,” he says, and his voice is low and rougher than usual. “But Ezor will not let me live it down if we are late for yet another mission because I couldn’t keep away from you.”

While Keith takes a shower, Shiro tries not to think about the fact that he is now a vow-breaker who has cheated on his husband with his best friend from another reality. And he liked it. Quiznak, did he like it. 

Curtis is a good husband. They may not lead this exciting life full of space travel, sunsets and passion, but he is still a kind, caring man who took Shiro when he was at his lowest after the war and helped him quietness; it’s Shiro’s own fault that he has not yet found the peace he is always looking for. What they have is good. Their marriage is good. Their life is good. It’s not the stuff of books but no relationship is. No marriage is perfect – you have to find someone in life that’s just enough for you. And Curtis is enough for Shiro. He is _his_ husband. Other Shiro can keep his sunsets and his missions and his adventures. And Keith. He can have this Keith. Shiro has already lost his own. 

When Keith comes out of the shower, Shiro tries to act normal and not as if he’s just committed the biggest betrayal in his life and enjoyed it. It’s just another thing to shove in his box for a later date. 

Everyone (or what Shiro assumes is everyone) is already waiting at the bridge when Keith and Shiro arrive. Acxa and Keith go over the mission details and the base schematics again. They are trying to apprehend several runaways from the Galra Empire who have been wreaking havoc on peaceful nearby worlds. The fugitives are mere soldiers, no commanders amongst them but they supposedly receive orders from the separatists’ command and Keith is positive they can get a location if they only get their hands on some of the transmissions. 

The mission seems simple enough – get the intel while disabling their ships to cut off their escape – and, even though Shiro still has no idea why Other Shiro would choose to continue this life of constant battle, he thinks he might pull it off without giving himself away if he only follows Keith’s lead. Ezor thinks there is a good chance there won’t even be a fight – the soldiers are likely to just turn themselves in once they realise they are grounded without their ships. 

Shiro is starting to feel slightly more positive about the whole thing until one of the big Galrans who might be K’hart murmurs grumpily, “I wish we could do this without the supersonic jump.”

“You always say that, J’skeh, you bore,” Zethrid snorts unkindly.

So, it’s the other one then. The bigger, more dangerous looking one. Shiro’s attention snaps back to the conversation once his brain manages to catch up to the meaning of the words. A _supersonic jump_! These are banned in the Garrison due to the high risk and potential long-term impacts on the human body but human rules don’t apply to Galra and apparently they don’t apply to Keith and Other Shiro either.

“Yes, and I always wish I wasn’t jumping into the atmosphere just a jet pack,” J’skeh replies. He’s never heard a Galran sound so petulant before and it’s so ridiculous that Shiro can’t hold his laughter. 

“You know the wolf can’t jump long distances with other people. Otherwise, I’d ask him to take you instead of making you jump. At least he’ll move you around once your lazy ass is on planet. Shiro and I will have to walk to the base,” Keith says seriously but his mouth is slightly upturned at the edges. Shiro licks his lips.

He tears his gaze away. Looking at Keith’s lips is bad. Shiro is a married man and this is his best friend. 

And he also has a supersonic jump to make, which he’s never done before given Earth’s restrictions on this. 

He really, really wishes they could expand on the technicalities behind flying into the atmosphere head-first with no ship but the conversation moves on to other details and before he knows it, Shiro is strapping himself in a tight black Blades uniform (maybe he can wear this every day instead of the pink monstrosities in his wardrobe) next to a grinning Keith who looks more excited than when they used to go cliff diving. This is, Shiro supposes a more extreme version of cliff diving – only, instead of a cliff, they are diving off the edge of a planet’s atmosphere and instead of a hoverbike they are relying on gravity and jet packs. 

On a very basic level, Shiro is aware that this is beyond dangerous, especially as he is doing it for the first time while pretending to be a veteran at it. But his body doesn’t seem to agree or care about this knowledge as adrenaline and excitement course through his veins making his blood sing with elation. 

His senses are all on edge, making him hyper aware of Keith’s breathing next to him as he prepares his own uniform and jet pack. His heart is beating madly in his chest and he feels like a tiger waiting to be let out of his cage.

He hasn’t felt this daring in years, ready to stomp on caution and challenge the universe and laws of physics in a battle of endurance and win. So what if he’s never done a supersonic jump before? He was the first human (aside from Keith’s dad obviously) to make contact with an alien race, he led armies into battle, and he brought down an Empire. Gravity’s got nothing on him. 

A slight ping from the wall behind them tells them it’s time to move. Keith pulls him in a tight hug, their helmets bumping, and it feels so much like their days on the Castle of Lions – a good luck gesture without a lingering goodbye underneath it. Neither of them ever believed the other won’t make it – always immortal in each other’s eyes. Always sure that nothing could ever keep them apart. They turned out to be right at the end, didn’t they? Not even death itself managed to keep Keith from finding him.

One last squeeze and the bay door open to reveal the dark side of a brownish-yellow planet. The ship is hovering just at the edge of between the thermosphere and the mesosphere, engine pushing back against the pull of gravity to avoid the sensors in the Galra separatists’ base. The pilot, whoever it is, is good.

This is it. They just need to push themselves a little bit and gravity will do its job and bring them down with just the occasional flare or their jet packs to slow down the descent. 

Keith looks at him and smiles in his fearless glory. He is stunning. 

Then he jumps down and Shiro follows without a second thought ready to fall into the depths of hell with him.

Shiro feels the familiar pressure behind his bellybutton as the pull of the planet catches them in its grasp. Then he is accelerating like a bullet soaring through the mesosphere and quickly overtaking Keith. The visual on his helmet is telling him he’s at 1165 km/h which is much slower than many of the planes he’s flown but much, much faster than what he’s experienced in just his body. It’s absolutely inconceivable. 

Shiro is laughing in delight inside his helmet as he shoots down towards the ground, fighting the sensory overload threatening to take over his body. He wants to feel all of this.

“I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah,” he shouts giddily. “Two hundred degrees. That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit.” Keith will make so much fun of him later because of this, but he doesn’t care. This is too good. He wishes he’d broken that particular Earth regulation much earlier. 

His speed slows down as the air starts to get thicker and the drag force pushes against his body, fighting against the force of gravity. His pulse starts slowing down as the rush of adrenaline born out of the acceleration subsides gradually.

The ground is getting closer and closer by the second and his helmet reminds him it’s time for the first of four instances when he has to activate his jet pack. Shiro presses the button on his palm and his speed drops down to nearly 0 as the jet pack releases a gust of air. 

Keith flies down past Shiro and it’s clear he’s ignored his own reminder. Shiro huffs in amusement and shoots down after him, letting his weight assist him in catching up. He’s not about to let Keith win this manic race. 

They both ignore the next reminder and continue flying down. Shiro is slowly gaining speed and he needs just a tiny bit more to get ahead of Keith. The third reminder flashes by but Shiro doesn’t pay any attention to it as his body finally manages to reach Keith’s. He laughs again. Not bad for a retiree. 

The ground is almost on him when the fourth and final reminder appears and Shiro holds his breath before he pushes the button at the last possible millisecond, the jet pack barely able to slow him down as he crashes into the ground a little more roughly than intended.

Keith lands in a graceful crouch next to him in the next second and then they are both throwing off their helmets and giggling. Shiro feels more alive than he has in years. 

Keith jumps at him like a very large cat and Shiro catches him easily spinning him around happily. It’s more difficult than he remembers because of the added height Keith’s gained in the last few years. The kiss comes naturally this time. It’s soft and gentle but no less thrilling than the last one. 

“I won,” he grins against Keith’s mouth and the smile he earns in return is more brilliant than any double sunset Shiro could ever see.

“Yeah, you and your big muscles,” Keith replies and Shiro preens proudly and lifts Keith even higher. This is, technically, Other Shiro’s lean and strong body and Shiro’s own muscles are sadly not as well defined but it’s still flattering to hear the compliment coming from Keith.

Shiro releases Keith from his hold, guilt churning in his gut once more. This is someone else’s husband. Shiro is someone else’s husband. His own Keith has never even thought of him in this way in it feels like Shiro is taking advantage of the situation to experience things that have always simmered just below the surface of his consciousness, never to be voiced. 

“Acxa and Ezor should be landing on the other side of the compound,” Keith says. He pulls up a 3D map of the are from his wrist projector. “The city should be in that direction and the base should be just behind those dunes over there. It should take us about 20 doboshes with the jet packs to get there.”

The first of the two suns is peeking above the horizon by the time they get to the base. Keith says the base is in lock-down at night, so it was easier to infiltrate it during the day, especially given the skeleton crew manning it. 

They scale the outer walls of the base easily, staying in the blind spots of the cameras dotted across the compound but the place looks quite derelict and Shiro would have been surprised if any of the surveillance equipment was working. Keith pulls him to hide in a small alcove between two walls to wait for Acxa’s signal. 

It’s a tight fit and Shiro is once again pressed against Keith, so he tries to distract his brain with thoughts about the mission.

So far, it seems to be going according to plan but it still doesn’t sit well with Shiro. Everything else Shiro can reconcile with (maybe not the clothes) and see the appeal of but not this – not the never-ending war that Other Shiro seems to have committed his life to. He never wanted to fight; battle was always forced on him taking away everything he enjoyed about space little by little and it’s impossible to imagine how any version of him feels differently. After all, that’s why he chose to stay grounded in his reality – he thought that flying with Keith would mean more battles with the remainders of the Galra Empire and he chose to stay on Earth instead. 

Maybe if he’d known the price for wanting peace was Keith, he would have chosen war instead. 

“I always thought you would go into some kind of humanitarian work after the war,” he whispers to Keith before he can stop himself.

“I don’t mind what we are doing as long as I can fly spaceships with you. You know that, Shiro,” Keith whispers back. “I would have followed you anywhere and I don’t wish for a different life. Not ever.” And that makes very little sense because it sounds like this was Other Shiro’s decision and not Keith’s. The more Shiro learns about this reality, the more questions he has. 

Their helmets ping with a message from Acxa. It’s time to go in. Keith gives the signal to Semex and and K’hart to start their descent with one of their own planetary shuttles and wait on standby as back up, now that Acxa and Ezor have disabled the planetary detectors in the base.

They successfully manage to hack into the door using the codes that the intel team gave them before the mission. Keith seems to know where he is going even without a full scan of the base so Shiro just keeps quiet and follows after him. Stealth has never really been his strength – even when he was imprisoned by the Galra, he memorised the patrol patterns rather than trying to sneak out and escape relying on his sneakiness. 

Thanks to Keith they manage to make it to the ship hangar undetected. The problem comes when they enter and Keith points Shiro to the two low-class Galra Fighter jets on the right, while he heads to the two on the left.

Shiro knows what the mission is – they are meant to disable all ships so that the separatists are cut off and can’t escape. Which is all well and good but Shiro has no idea how to discreetly disable a Galra Fighter jet, but he can’t just stand here like a plant and wait for Keith to do all of the work. Whatever, he’ll wing it – he’s managed so far. 

The controls are all in Galran, which doesn’t really help. Other Shiro has had the speech translation implant as evident by the fact he can clearly talk to Keith’s crew (unless they all speak English for his sake – with the implant, one can never be sure what language anyone was speaking in) but the implant doesn’t really work on written text. Either Other Shiro has taken the time to learn Galran or Keith thinks that he can just guess the right buttons, which seems unlikely. 

He puts his Galra arm against the activation panel and the system, blessedly, comes to life. 

“Keith,” he whispers into the communications line. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to say. 

“Yeah,” comes the reply almost immediately.

“I’m not sure how to disable this,” he admits after a short deliberation. It’s better than risking their lives because he pretended to understand Galran. “This looks a bit different than usual,” he adds like a liar. 

“What do you mean different? These look the same as all the other ships you disable on a weekly basis, Shirogane,” comes a voice that belongs to one of Keith’s crew members that Shiro doesn’t know the name of. It seems this is an open line and he is about to get everyone’s input rather than quietly ask for instructions. This is beyond embarrassing.

“It’s alright,” Keith cuts off any comments that the others might be preparing. He doesn’t sound worried or angry at all and it should stop surprising Shiro how good of a leader Keith has become. “Have you pulled up the main systems menu?”

“Yes,” Shiro says because he thinks this in front of him is the main systems menu.

“Then it’s simple. Just open the internal systems menu. It’s the blinking one on the far left. Should be in blue.” Hiro follows the instructions thanking all the gods of the universe that Galra can see the same colours as humans.

“Alright,” Shiro says.

“Now press the transfer button - it’s a big white one on your right – and then transmit the virus from your arm directly to the fighter through the touch terminal.” It really is simple.  
Shiro presses the white button with his left hand and brings his Galra arm back to the touch terminal. Irrationally, he feels very pleased with himself even though he only managed to complete his task because Keith was giving him instructions clear enough for a toddler to follow. He breathes out a sigh of relief, ready to take on the next ship…

Only for his ears to be assaulted by a deafening alarm coming from all sides of the blasted Fighter jet. 

“Shit, Shiro, not that white button,” comes Keith’s voice and _Oh! Quiznak, there are two big white buttons._ He’s pressed the one on his left instead of the one on his right. Surely, this kind of stupidity only happens in movies. 

Shiro hears Keith ask Acxa if they are almost done and Acxa responding that no, Ezor is still inside extracting the intel and Keith needs to keep them away from any terminals on the ships until they are finished.

Shiro jumps out of the ship, which is still ringing unpleasantly for all to hear. Keith is already out, typing something on the terminal next to the doors.

“I’m blocking the entrance. The only other way in is through the main ship doors but the controls for that are in here so it shouldn’t be a problem,” Keith says without looking away from the terminal. “Still, this won’t hold for long. Guard the door, I need to finish disabling those ships.” It’s not a request. Shiro nods even though Keith can’t see him, powering up his Galra arm. 

He feels like his very soul is struggling against this – against lifting the weapon of destruction given to him by the Galra and to fight again. 

Keith has already disappeared in one of the ships – not the one sounding the alarm; maybe that one is beyond fixing now – and Shiro feels like he is standing alone against the oncoming enemy. The alarm sounds too much like chanting and the fight and flight instinct waking up in him is completely different to the adrenaline he felt only vargas before when he jumped into the abyss after Keith. 

He can hear the other crew members swearing and arguing on the line, but he can’t really understand their words. Maybe his translator is broken because all he can hear is ‘Champion’.

There is a dull sound coming from the doors in front of him. He flexes his muscles, ready to kill whatever monstrosity they’ve sent for him this time. It’s kill or be killed. 

The doors in front of him blast open and he swings blindly at the endless enemies pouring inside the arena. They all have weapons and all he has is his hand but he can beat them – he has beaten everything they’ve thrown at him before – that’s why he’s Champion. 

One of the monsters raises its blaster towards him, but Shiro cuts his arm clean off before it’s even finished moving. 

“Shiro, duck!” He instinctively obeys the voice because it sounds like Keith even though it’s impossible for Keith to be here with him. Shiro’s knees hit the floor.

A massive sword flies above Shiro’s head, cutting down two of the monsters. Keith jumps in front of him, yanking his weapon from one of the fallen bodies. 

Keith is here. He should be safe on Earth. He should be away from these monsters… and from Shiro who is also a monster now. A weapon. There is blood everywhere and it might be Shiro’s or the monsters’, but it can’t be Keith’s. Never Keith’s.

Keith is fighting the last enemy now and Shiro needs to get up. He needs to help Keith. To protect him. But something is pulling him down like a dead weight and maybe the Galra have cut off his legs too because they are not working. Or maybe it’s the illness finally catching up to him and corrupting his body all at once.

The last monster is on the ground in a splatter of dark red and Keith is next to him, kneeling in the grime and dirt for Shiro who is undeserving and unworthy of such devotion.  
Someone’s screaming and it must be Shiro because it’s not Keith and there is no one else around them and his throat his hurting and his body is numb, numb, numb and he doesn’t want to fight anymore. He just wants to rest. He just wants to rest. He just wants to rest. 

Keith is speaking to him and his beautiful face is blurry through a curtain of tears Shiro doesn’t feel in his eyes. The words are falling on his deaf ears and then washing away into the empty arena and the one thing that sticks is Keith saying _you are here, you are here! YOU ARE HERE!_ But Shiro can’t believe it. He’s not here; he is there now, again, always. He never left because _there_ is not a place; it’s the rot inside him and he’s always carrying it with him wherever he goes and Keith can’t be dirtied with it not now, _not ever_.

He tries to listen though; he tries really heard and finally hears Keith asking him what the colour of his shirt was the first time they met. Shiro thinks back and it seems impossible that he would ever forget anything related to Keith but he’s not quite sure whether it was green or black. Green? Keith never wears green. 

“Black,” he murmurs weakly and is rewarded by a smile. 

Suddenly the space wolf pops into existence in front of them and Keith is talking again but no longer to Shiro; still Shiro tries to listen, to make sense of the words, to push back on the chasm inside him because that’s what he’s always done, only this time it’s too big for the box and it’s eating it from the inside out like a black hole.

Keith tells someone called Lalhaexa to take Shiro – the wolf will bring them to the shuttle Semex and K’hart have landed in the desert. He also tells her to keep Shiro talking and Shiro is not sure why he has to talk to this Lalhaexa person but before he can ask, he is somewhere else, his hand buried into soft fur. He crashes down onto the ground still clutching at the wolf.

A tall Galran woman is also touching the wolf and this must be Lalhaexa.

“Keith?” Shiro asks. He feels so tired. So, so tired. 

“He needs to finish the mission,” she answers. “Turns out the separatist had a few more people than we thought and Ezor and Acxa needed back up urgently after we were found.”

Oh, yes. They were found. Because Shiro was too stupid to tell left from right. 

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Lalhaexa says as if reading his mind. “You know Ezor has gotten us in worse situations before. We’ll laugh about it tomorrow.” 

Someone behind Shiro snorts and he turns to see K’hart and one of the other crew members. Shiro’s too exhausted to even glare at his rival. He just closes his eyes.  
Keith will be fine. This is his everyday life. He’s defeated stronger enemies with worse odds. He’s not like Shiro – rusty and retired and too stupid to read Galran or tell directions. He’s Keith. A bright star of vengeance – undefeatable and boundless like the universe itself. 

Lalhaexa is talking to him again, probably trying to follow Keith’s instruction but Shiro ignores her and settles against the shuttle's walls. He’ll just stay here and wait for Keith. He will be fine and they will hug and watch the double sunset together. Like shitty Star Wars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have already broken my intention to update every two weeks but here is a 9K chapter instead.
> 
> Warnings for: panic attacks and self-deprecating thoughts.
> 
> Upping the rating to Mature just in case although nothing to saucy.
> 
> The science in this is, as you can all tell, absolutely made up.
> 
> Felix actually jumped from the stratosphere, not the mesosphere but I figured they'll have more advanced technology. 
> 
> I am sure to those of you who are very good at telling left from right, the scene in the base sounded ridiculous. Those of you who, like me, are bad at telling direction, will know what I’m talking about. As I was writing about Shiro’s right arm, I was actually thinking about left the whole time and I think that says it all - the struggle is real!
> 
> Hope you enjoy. Comments, thoughts and constructive criticism welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

Shiro wakes up to a warm embrace and an eruption of purple and red in the sky. His head is pillowed in Keith’s lap and long fingers are slowly carding through his hair. Keith is looking ahead, straight into the two suns slowly sinking down towards the horizon. 

“How are you feeling?” Keith asks without looking away from the sunset. Shiro is grateful for it. He doesn’t want Keith to look at him and see the numbness inside.

“I’m fine,” comes the automatic response. It always works on Curtis. Not because he is stupid or uncaring. It’s more of a comfortable arrangement between the two – an obvious lie to cover up for feelings Shiro doesn’t want to share or even explore; a signal that he doesn’t have the answers, so he prefers for the questions not be uttered at all. But oh, Shiro has forgotten how much lying to Keith always feels like a betrayal of that promise Shiro made, back when he was trying to convince the 15-year-old who’d stolen his car to enlist in the Garrison. 

“How did the mission go?” Shiro asks although he doubts they would be in the middle of the desert, watching the sunset, if something irreversible had happened.

“Success,” Keith says. “We got to Acxa and Ezor on time, disabled the rest of the rebels. Even took 4 prisoners to bring back to Daibazaal with us.” 

Shiro pushes himself up to sitting. Keith’s fingers fall from his hair. Shiro tries not to miss the touch. “How did we get here?” he asks, pushing the memory of a young boy asking him to ‘ _not be like all of the other adults in his life; always fucking lying_ ’ under his skin to deal with another time. Always another time. 

_Here_ is a cliff overlooking an endless desert. Neither the Galra base nor the city Keith mentioned are anywhere to be seen. It’s like this whole world is made of just sand. A soft wind is caressing Shiro’s skin, whistling a lonely song.

Shiro feels the bittersweet taste of nostalgia in his mouth. He can almost feel the pressure of a hoverbike between his legs and hear Keith’s precious laughter as they jump down, chasing after adrenaline and dreams. He even has _a_ Keith here next to him, albeit a different, older, alternate reality version of the Keith in his memories.

The only difference is in the spectacular fire dance of not one, but two suns in front of them, setting the world ablaze and drowning the sky in brilliant colours, some of which Shiro is almost sure he’s never seen before. It’s so much better than Star Wars. _It’s not better than those sunsets in the desert around the Garrison, though_ , a tiny voice whispers from somewhere deep within his head. _Hearing random voices is not a good sign in support of a sound and reliable mind, Shiro,_ he thinks to himself.

“The wolf zapped us back to the base. Then we took one of the Galra fighters,” Keith’s thumb points behind them where Shiro can see one of the jets they had been tasked with disabling – maybe the one Shiro failed to deal with or maybe Keith has the counter-virus and has managed to fix it. 

“No, I meant… I was asleep. Did you carry me here?” Shiro asks dumbly and feels his face blushing profoundly. It’s alright this time though – even Keith’s sharp eyes wouldn’t be able to tell in this light.

“Of course,” Keith answers like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like it’s the only answer he could ever give if Shiro is the one asking. 

Of course. Of course, I carried you here. Of course, I saved your life. Of course, I brought you back from death. Of course, I travelled across the galaxy to look for you. Of course, I spent a year searching the sky, believing you were alive. Of course, of course, of course… 

What seems to be as natural as breathing to Keith, has never been that simple for Shiro. If anything, it’s the most complex thing in a life full of complications and Shiro can’t ever reconcile in his head how a star so brilliant and dazzling could ever choose to be tied up to a black hole of bad luck and worse decisions. 

He vaguely remembers his parents carrying him before they died and then maybe his grandparents once or twice before he became too big. No one else has even attempted it after – he’s always been the hero, the one to lift others up; bigger than everyone else, bigger than life itself. Why would a hero need someone to support him? 

Like most things in life, this never applied to Keith. 

It seems Shiro never grew big enough for Keith to carry; to leave him on the ground and tell him to use his own two feet. Keith just kept on carrying him, literally and figuratively, through galaxies and lifetimes and realities. _Not anymore_ , Shiro thinks bitterly, _not in my own reality._

_And whose fault is that?_ the foreign voice in his head chimes in again, unhelpfully. _Who pulled away first? Who left whom?_

Shiro wants to cry. He wants to laugh. He wants to pull this Keith and never let go. He wants to go back and find his own Keith and never let him go. He wants to know what he did to deserve Keith. He wants to know what he did to lose him. He wants and wants and wants; so many things he has no right to.

He wants to claw his chest open and spill everything that’s being held there – all the darkness he always steers clear of and all of the memories that he wishes he could tear out of his brain. He wants it all gone. But the only way for it to spill is through his mouth and that’s not safe – it’s not going to rid him of anything; it will only mean that someone else will have to listen and carry the burden with him and Keith is already carrying enough. So, he clenches his metal fist and pushes at his heart until the outside pressure chases away the pain trapped inside.

Shiro keeps his eyes on the sunset as he waits for Keith to say something – demand an explanation, or reprimand him for endangering the mission; ask him who the hell he is and where is his actual husband; or even tell him that he’s finally seen through Shiro’s façade of a whole, real man and seen the broken numbness lurking on the inside – tell him that he’s finally realised Shiro is not worth it and ask him how he’s fooled him all these years.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says instead, and it shocks Shiro enough to make him tear his eyes from the twin suns and face Keith. Keith is looking back and Shiro sees his own aches and guilt reflected in Keith’s eyes. He looks so apologetic and remorseful and Shiro has absolutely no idea why. 

Keith must read the confusion in Shiro’s eyes because he elaborates, “for leaving you when you needed me.” 

Shiro breathes out a long breath of relief at this. This is familiar territory and it is surprising how once again this Keith and his Keith seem like one and the same person, while Shiro and his counterpart couldn’t be more different from each other. Does this mean that the difference in the two realities stems entirely from Shiro? Another question that he locks inside himself for later. 

It seems that this Keith (and probably all other Keiths in existence) never learned how to not beat himself up over things that were not his fault or even his responsibility.

“Keith,” Shiro says calmly because this, he knows; this, he has dealt with numerous times before and Keith hurting and blaming himself is more important than staring at the holes in his own soul, which he can do on his own time. “The team needed you. I understand. Of course, you can’t just throw everything to stay with one member of your team while everyone else is at risk.” And because he can’t help himself and it’s something that he can’t tell his own Keith now, he adds, “you are a better leader than I could ever imagine.”

He laughs when Keith blushes and elbows him in the ribs. There is no denial though and at least Keith has learned to take a compliment. Shiro knows he is staring but, damn it to hell, he is allowed in this reality and Keith is so breath-taking that he should have an audience to witness it at all times. 

Keith’s eyes are boring into his soul and seeing more than Shiro wants but he can’t bear to hide away from Keith’s gaze nonetheless. There is a strange tension in the air – the feeling that one gets just before lightning strikes; the calm before the storm. It’s something in Keith’s eyes – some intensity that can’t be replicated, can’t be denied or fooled. He is stripping the layers on Shiro’s soul one by one with just a look and Shiro feels too exposed, but he wouldn’t dare cover himself from Keith. 

A familiar weight somewhere in his stomach reminds him that this is not his and he looks away, breaking the moment. The first sun is now halfway hidden and the second is close behind it. 

“Let’s take the picture,” he says out of the blue because he wouldn’t want to forget this even if he he’s unlikely to be able to take the picture with him once he finds a way to his own reality. “Before it’s too late.” It feels too late already.

Keith just snorts and clicks his wristwatch gadget to set up the camera. They turn around so they can get the sunset in the picture. Keith smiles brightly at the camera and it must be infectious because Shiro’s lips stretch into a grin as well. The camera clicks ones, twice, three times. 

Shiro wonders if time has stopped for Other Shiro and he’ll get to relive this moment with Keith or if he’ll just get the shock of a lifetime looking at a picture he doesn’t remember taking, angry about the irreversible time that an imposter has stolen away from him. 

They turn back around to face the sunset once more and Keith leans his head onto Shiro’s shoulder, sighing. They just sit there in silence, basking in the last rays of sunlight; the only sound around them coming from the tune of the wind.

It’s not stifling or suffocating – it’s just as comfortable as sitting by oneself and Shiro has forgotten this; forgotten the calm that Keith always brings with him wherever he goes. 

Most people always saw him as a rash and aggressive boy in the Garrison, quick to fire up and always speaking with fists rather than words; then, a reckless and volatile Paladin who preferred to act first and explain later. Very few seemed to see this side of Keith – the tranquil and contemplative part of his soul that would rather sway with the sea than control the waves. How people mistook this quiet – this serenity – for arrogance and self-importance has always been incomprehensible for Shiro.

The suns slowly submerge under the horizon leaving them in semi-darkness. Keith shifts and raises his head from Shiro’s shoulder, and it feels like a gentle warning, letting Shiro know what he’s about to say in advance; giving him time to prepare for it.

With the suns gone, the chill of the wind starts seeping through Shiro’s clothes and into his bones. 

“I’m not going to press you,” Keith says. “We can talk about it or not, but I am here if you want to tell me.”

Shiro nods slowly, carefully thinking about his strategy here. He wants to confess everything, he really does – this is his best friend and the ‘not really’ and ‘not anymore’ are so unimportant when all he can see is a profile so familiar that it’s engrained in his mind better than his own face. It would make it all so much easier – Keith would do anything in his power to help him go back; he is almost sure of it. From what he’s seen and heard, Other Shiro is clearly not all there and Keith hasn’t sent him to an asylum yet so chances are, he will believe this Shiro as well. 

But something’s holding him back; other than the fear of breaking the universe and the horror of being seen as mentally unstable. He wants to _see_. Whether this is all real or not, he wants to see Other Shiro’s life; he wants to know whether a different him in a different reality is made of stars; whether he is unchained and free and weighted by nothing as he travels the universe following Keith. 

He’s had more mental breakdowns in two days than in his entire life, but he’s also felt more alive than he has in nearly six years; he’s felt that old freedom, that excitement of exploration, of taking risks and jumping off the edge of space into the unknown. Shiro actively avoids being honest with himself in his daily life, but it’s impossible to deny that he’s missed the stars. He’s missed Keith. He wants to hold on to both for as long as he can, even if he’s doing it on borrowed time; even if it will hurt to let go after. 

So, instead of saying ‘I’m not your real husband, I’m a reality-travelling Shiro’, he ends up with, “I don’t know what happened. I just… I blacked out.”

“Have you spoken to Dr Ravi recently?” Keith asks. 

Of course. Shiro should have guessed already that Other Shiro had a therapist. Because he was not at all sane. Having heard of Other Shiro’s episodes and having seen his wardrobe, Shiro wholeheartedly agreed that he needs the therapy. 

“No,” he answers, because it’s technically true.

“I think you should… speak to her, I mean” Keith is clearly struggling. He looks so concerned that Shiro suddenly wants to find this Dr Ravi’s number and call her right now. “Look, I… I want you to be safe and to be happy… it’s your choice whether you want to call Dr Ravi or not and, as your husband, I trust you to do what’s best for you and tell me if you need me or my input. But… as your captain, I have to be sure you are alright before I put you on another mission. This can’t happen again. For your sake and for team’s.” It’s incomprehensible that this seems to have not happened before, with their past and especially with Other Shiro’s loose screw. 

Shiro nods. He wouldn’t have put himself on the mission in the first place. He shouldn’t have lied he was okay. He isn’t really fit for it or reliable or in the position to have anyone depending on him with their lives. This chapter of his life is meant to be over. Why isn’t it over for Other Shiro? How is he fit enough to still be fighting? How has this not happened before?

“Why are we doing this, Keith?” he asks because he can’t stop himself. “Why are we still fighting a war that we won years ago?”

Keith’s eyes widen at the question. “Shiro… We could stop. I could call Kolivan and ask for a reassignment. If you are ready to move on, you know I’ll follow you. You don’t have to save the universe anymore, you know that.”

The sentence doesn’t make sense – not directed at Shiro anyway. Keith is the hero between the two of them; always saving others in some form or capacity – catching war criminals in one reality and helping refugees in another and always, always, always saving Shiro. Isn’t he the captain? Isn’t he the reason they are still fighting rebels in this reality?

“I never wanted to save it. Just to discover it,” Shiro’s voice catches. The wind is crying sorrowfully around them, pulling the sand into an ethereal dance.

“I know,” Keith says. “I know,” he repeats. “I didn’t mean it like that. But you haven’t wanted to do anything else ever since Matt died. If you want to, we can ditch it all right now – we can go do humanitarian missions or even quit the Blades and just become space nomads.” 

Oh. So, it’s about that. Shiro almost forgot Matt is dead in this reality. He died on an alien world and Other Shiro also forgets about it sometimes and upsets Pidge. That’s why he made the video to remind himself. And this is somehow related to the reason Other Shiro and Keith are still fighting. 

Shiro’s has it all wrong then. It’s not Keith who dragged Other Shiro to this life – it was the other way around. Keith is here, risking his life over and over again because of _him_. And for what? Some twisted sense of revenge? 

Shiro wants to ask more questions, but he fears he is becoming suspicious already. 

He wants to tell Keith that yes, he does want to move on and explore the universe and help orphans. But he doesn’t want to uproot Other Shiro’s life by changing his life choices without understanding them completely. 

There is something else that he needs to say though. “I am so, so sorry Keith.”

“What for?” Keith looks genuinely confused.

“For still being such a burden. After all this time.” The words have been on the tip of Shiro’s tongue for years even if there is no point of saying them anymore – at least not in his own reality; not to his own Keith who is unlikely to be willing to hear any words falling from Shiro’s lips.

“Apologies are pointless between the two of us, Shiro, remember?” Keith looks away towards the darkening sky again but his warm, calloused hand finds Shiro’s flesh one and it’s enough to chase the cold away if only for a second, before Keith’s next words can reach Shiro’s brain and halt it to an excruciating stop, “You said this to me a thousand times when I apologised for my nightmares and my own dissociation episodes when we were on the Black Lion together, travelling back to Earth.” 

Shiro’s breaths are coming in painfully and there is a boulder the size of Earth pushing down on his heart and trying to flatten it underneath its sheer mass. 

“You held me through those,” Keith continues, still looking away, oblivious to the bile rising in Shiro’s throat and the needles pushing under his skin. “You were there, next to me, every time I woke up screaming or when I was paralysed with fear thinking I was back at the clone facility, and you told me that I could never be a burden to you and that you would rather have all of me all the time, including the scarred and aching parts too.” Each word is a thin blade sliding between Shiro’s ribs. 

His fist clenches involuntarily under Keith’s hand, pulling Keith’s attention to him. 

Whatever Keith sees on Shiro’s face is pitiful enough to make him pull Shiro into strong, protective arms. Shiro turns his face and nuzzles into Keith’s neck, breathing him in. Another wave of guilt crashes into him, mighty and devastating. The smell is identical to the other – to _his_ Keith in _his_ reality where Shiro didn’t stay on the Black Lion and didn’t hold him through his nightmares; nightmares in which Shiro himself probably had a starring role. 

All those times when Keith tried to reach out and talk, he might have needed help… might have needed to be held; only for Shiro to pull away and tell himself they’ll have time later. Until Keith stopped trying and Shiro stopped lying to himself that there was a later for them. 

Shiro wonders if this surprise right now - that Keith had needed him all those years ago – is due to stupidity or wilful blindness. He doesn’t know which one he prefers. Shiro himself is still plagued by nightmares from that clone facility. It is only logical (and utterly unfair because it’s not Keith’s fault at all) that Keith must be reliving the same horrors Shiro does every night but from a different perspective – one where his best friend is trying to take him down. 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Keith murmurs softly in Shiro’s hair bringing him back to this reality. “I’ll always be here after the nightmares and I’ll always chase your demons away. Just like always you do mine.” 

Shiro squeezes his eyes trying to breathe through the thousand knives sticking from his hollow chest.

“Do you remember how mortified I was the first time you snuck into my bed,” Keith says into Shiro’s hair. “Back then I still thought I had no interest in sex so when I woke up hard, I had a full-blown crisis before you calmed me down.” Shiro can hear the smile in his voice and chuckles through the pain. It is so very _Keith_ to be more afraid of his own body than he ever was of an alien super-empire trying to kill them and take over the universe. 

“Don’t laugh. I think that was probably the most embarrassing conversation I’ve ever had. The guy I woke up hard next to, explaining to me how the human body works, and that asexuality is a spectrum. Oh, the embarrassment I could have saved myself from, if Krolia had told me anything about Galra puberty at any point while we were stuck on that space whale for two years. But no, she had more important things to tell me – like Galran _hair braiding styles_ ,” Keith laughs as well and it’s the most beautiful sound in the universe. 

“Or maybe I should have talked to you about the birds and the bees when you were younger. Twenty-two is quite the old age for that,” Shiro pulls back a little to look at Keith’s smiling face.

“As if that would’ve gone down well. Do you even remember me as a teenager? I would have probably punched you,” Keith says.

“I seriously doubt your fist could reach anywhere near my face when you were a teenager,” Shiro quips back. Keith’s eyebrows shoot up in mock outrage. “Maybe if you stepped on a chair or something.”

Keith punches his arm lightly, “I doubt we would be together right now if you’d taken it upon yourself to explain the birds and the bees to me back at the Garrison.” 

_Or if I hadn’t stayed on the Black Lion_ , Shiro doesn’t say.

“I mean, you were 15, Keith. I honestly thought you’d already _done_ the deed with how confident you were about everything. Never even occurred to me you needed _the talk.”_

“Oh, shut up. Have I ever shown any interest in anyone before you kissed me on the Black Lion?” That comes as another surprise to Shiro because Keith has always been the braver, more risk-prone out of the two of them; never afraid to put his body or his heart on the line. To know that Other Shiro gathered the courage to act first is impressive, admirable even – the first positive quality that Shiro has seen of his counterpart really. 

Shiro feels reckless and so he asks, “Tell me about the first time I kissed you.” 

“Are you testing my memory, old man? Shouldn’t I be the one doing that?” Keith laughs with mirth. “Hmm… you were in my bed, supposedly trying to comfort me after a nightmare. Now I know you had ulterior motives,” he raises his eyebrows in mock judgement. “It was after we had our conversation about the clone facility because you weren’t being weird around me anymore or talking about leaving. And after that awkward conversation about my body definately,” Keith scrunches up his nose. 

“You were trying to distract me by playing a stupid high school game. Some rip off of Never Have I Ever, but you were adamant it was a ‘Shiro Original’. What did you call it? _Things I Regret Not Doing_. Ha. It was literally Never Have I Ever but only about stuff we wanted to do,” Keith shakes his head. 

“It clearly was a completely different game, Keith,” Shiro argues just to be contrite. 

“Yeah, right. You should try and copyright it on Earth next time we are on Earth,” Keith says and Shiro thinks the sarcasm is uncalled for. “Anyway, stupid game aside, I said I regret never giving making out a try, especially with my body’s recent urges. You looked at me very intensely. I remember that part very clearly,” Keith’s voice drops an octave and it shoots straight through Shiro’s spine. 

“You were facing me, just like you are now. You were staring at my lips and it was the first time I could feel myself getting excited while awake. You said, ‘There is one thing I regret not doing earlier but I can remedy it right now’. I think I couldn’t even breathe at that point. I was paralysed and so turned on. Your voice was so hot. You stroked my arm like this,” Keith pets Shiro’s left arm and Shiro’s whole body trembles at the contact. Shiro is the one that can’t even breath this time. 

“Then you grabbed my chin lightly,” Keith’s hand comes to Shiro’s chin in a re-enactment of the memory he is describing. “You guided my face closer.” Keith’s breath is warm on Shiro’s lips. “You pressed yourself against me.” Keith’s chest brushes against Shiro’s. “And then you kissed me.” Keith stops a fly’s wing away from touching Shiro and just looks at him with heated eyes. 

There is no excuse for wanting it this time – no surprise or shock or adrenaline to hold responsible for Shiro’s actions. Only the thrum under his skin; the unstoppable pull of gravity – a force of nature that Shiro could never deny. And the unbearable desire to be bold. Bold like Other Shiro had been all those years ago. Bold enough to chase the one thing he’s ever wanted more than the stars. 

Shiro closes the space between them, attacking Keith’s lips with the hunger of a man starved. Keith tastes like freedom. Shiro has no idea how he has denied himself this feeling for so long. He could have been kissing Keith years ago. No quiet and peace could ever be worth losing this for. 

Keith’s fingers tangle in Shiro’s hair and pull, making Shiro gasp. 

Then Keith is pulling away and Shiro is trying to chase his laughing mouth. 

“Easy, tiger. We have to get back to the ship. You know K’hart gets when we are behind schedule.” _That’s because he wants to steal you away from me,_ Shiro wants to say but it’s too petty so he just pouts unhappily at Keith. “Oh, come on. You know we need to head to Daibazaal as soon as possible. Krolia is waiting for us. She says the kids can’t wait to see us for the festival.” Maybe Krolia has other kids in this reality. Or, terrifyingly, maybe the kids in question are Kolivan’s. 

Shiro throws one last look at the darkening horizon - the two suns long set by now – before reluctantly getting up and patting himself down to get rid of the sand clinging to his pants, which are uncomfortably tight. From a simple kiss, which is ridiculous because he is not a teenager. 

"Need a co-pilot?” Shiro asks as he follows Keith to the Galra fighter jet. 

“No.” Shiro tries to stifle his disappointment at Keith’s answer. “This fighter can’t really have two pilots. You can be the one pilot though. I don’t mind resting for a bit and you’ve had a good nap,” Keith turns and smiles at him. 

“You sure you trust me with that? After today, I mean,” Shiro hates the fact that this question is even necessary. 

“Of course,” Keith says easily and Shiro can almost hear the chains dropping to the ground. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not even try to make excuses about my delays anymore because there are none. :/
> 
> I hope to whoever is still reading this that you enjoy this chapter. It is a bit slow and there is not much happening but I think a conversation between Keith and Shiro was overdue.
> 
> Hopefully the scene where K is describing their first kiss won't seem artificial to anyone - my partner and I quite like to re-enact and talk about our first kiss even though it was almost five years ago so it seems quite normal to me but.. you tell me. 
> 
> Comments and constructive criticism/suggestions are always appreciated. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for ages and I have finally managed to start it. 
> 
> I cannot promise any regularity with updates but I will do my best to update fortnightly. I have planned for around 15 chapters at the moment and have a very, very, very rough layout of where I want this to go.
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this.
> 
> Also, English is my second language and I have no proof-reader so feel free to point out any errors as long as you are polite about it. :)
> 
> P.S. This was inspired by a Drarry fic that I read ages ago but can't remember the name of. I will continue looking for it and link it here if I find it.


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